


The Path of the Forsaken

by Pelandreth



Series: The Wanderer’s Road [4]
Category: Kenshi (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:34:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 101,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23768554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pelandreth/pseuds/Pelandreth
Summary: A burning town signals the beginnings of a war. And for prisoners, outlaws and political pawns alike, survival is about to get a little more complicated.
Series: The Wanderer’s Road [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1365901
Comments: 9
Kudos: 12





	1. Memories

Beyond the walls of the village and the tall, spindly trees of the Hidden Forest, the mountain was still burning.

Rei had watched the smoke rise up from World’s End for what felt like hours, and the longer she’d sat and stared at it, the more surreal it had become, numbing the raw edge of grief rubbing against her soul. It was not until the setting sun had cast its own fire over the Arm that she had turned her back on the distant mountains and gone inside. Now the wind had changed, blowing away the faint but lingering smell of death, and the smoke that now blotted out the evening stars could almost have been mistaken for dark clouds. But Rei could not allow herself to forget so easily. Night or day, World’s End was gone, and the Tech Hunters and the University with it.

The atmosphere in the refuge that night was a subdued one. No-one wanted to look at anyone else, and the twins had retreated to the far corner of the room. There were no card games, there was no suspiciously-acquired alcohol, and there was no laughter. Rei was sitting at the table with Kat and Lekko, trying to distract herself with a large, furling map. Pia was fiddling with her prayer beads. Even Scrap had tucked himself away, half-asleep next to the warmth of the thrumming water heater.

“This is a terrible idea,” said Lekko.

Rei, still staring at the map, didn’t reply. She’d taken it off the wall at the Flotsam headquarters and spread it across Pia’s table, her mind wandering the possible routes that might lead them south to the Shek Kingdom. Various rocks and shells from Pia’s collections had been left under the map, springing up impromptu mountain ranges where none had been before. Rei tried to smooth the paper, to no avail.

“I know it’s a bad idea,” she said. “But it’s the only one we’ve got.”

Lekko’s eyebrows rose. “Staying here and keeping safe is a viable option, you know.”

“For _you_ , maybe.” Rei knew she sounded snappish, but she didn’t care. Sleep had not come easily to her the night before, and with World’s End now in flames, she knew her dreams that night would be plagued with the faces of those she’d killed. Finch, Iyo, Sabina, the guards who’d fussed over Scrap at the gates – dead, and all because she’d tried to lead a group of escaped slaves to safety. “But I’m not willing to just hang about while people are getting murdered three hours away.”

“We don’t know they were murdered,” Lekko said, but quietly.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, you’re right. They probably just burned the place down while everyone stood around and watched.” Rei slid the lumpy shape of a meat-knife out from under the map. She stabbed it into the town marked _World’s End_. The knife quivered, but its tip was firmly embedded in the wood. “Face facts, Lekko. They were murdered.”

“You said you’d settled on a route?” Kat mumbled, as the knife settled.

Rei found herself looking at the twins. They’d stayed out of proceedings up until now, but realising Rei wanted their input, they got up from the floor and stood over the map.

“The Tech Hunters tend to favour the route through Okran’s Gulf,” Spade said dully. It was the first time Rei had heard either of the twins speak since the lookouts had spotted the smoke. “South through the Floodlands and then keeping west, all the way down to Stack and the Hub.”

“That’s Holy Nation territory,” said Kat.

“Yeah.” Spade tapped her finger on the map. “Most Tech Hunters would cut close to the Fog Islands.”

“Wait a minute,” Lekko burst out. “The _Fog Islands_? Are you serious?”

A spark of defensiveness leapt into Spade’s voice. “Well, why not? I’m not saying we go _into_ the mist. Just keep close to it, to avoid the patrols.”

“That’s lunacy.”

“And so’s cutting through the middle of the Okranite lands when you’re a Shek!” Rei shot back. “I don’t know if it’s escaped your notice, Lekko, but three of us” — she indicated herself and the twins — “aren’t exactly welcome in the Holy Nation. And we’re not stupid enough to get ourselves captured by paladins.”

“Yeah,” said Kat after a brief silence. “Guess you’d have to be pretty stupid, right?”

“I didn’t mean it like that. Kat, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” Kat pushed back her chair. “I won’t let my stupidity get in the way of your planning.”

“Kat,” Rei began, but the door had already banged shut.

“This is the wrong time to make plans,” Lekko said. “Nobody’s thinking straight right now. And none of us are in a condition to travel anywhere, either. We should leave it.”

Rei rubbed her face with her hands. She wished she could take her careless words back, but she was determined to soldier on without Kat. “No. This is _important_. If we just avoid patrols…”

“Avoid them at what cost?” Lekko demanded. “Rei, there’s a good fucking reason the Okranites don’t patrol near the Fog Islands. The Deadhive aren’t just stories – the twins can back me up on that. They’ll eat you alive. They’re worse than your common cannibal. And just in case you’d forgotten, the _only_ reason we survived the last cannibal attack was because there were too many of us for them to kidnap and carry off. Are you trying to turn _everyone_ into dinner?”

“What do you mean _everyone_?”

Pia looked as though she wanted to melt into her chair. Out of the corner of her eye, Rei saw Jared wince.

“I mean everyone in this room,” Lekko said, “and Kat as well.”

“No, that isn’t what you meant.” Rei got to her feet, her hands shaking as she clutched the edges of the table. “Bringing up the cannibals that killed most of our group, just to make a dig at me… that’s a fucking low blow, Lekko.”

Lekko’s face had whitened. “I wasn’t making a dig.”

“You know, Lekko, since you so obviously want to play leader, maybe you _should_. And then, when things inevitably go to shit and people suffer and die, _you_ can be the one who lives with the consequences. Maybe then you’ll realise I’m doing my fucking best to keep us alive, when nobody else wants to be the one in charge.” Jared looked like he wanted to say something, but Rei held up a silencing hand. “Guess that’s what comes with being a drifter, right? Not being responsible for anyone’s skin other than your own…”

“You bitch,” Lekko said softly.

The air suddenly felt very heavy. As Rei’s brain finally caught up with her mouth, she realised too late just how deep her words had cut. She’d intended to wound Lekko, of course, but she’d struck well below the belt, and she had the feeling that nobody in the room was on her side anymore.

“I think we should call it a night,” Jared said.

“Good idea.” A wobble caught at Lekko’s voice. “I’m going to find Kat.”

“I’ll go and look too,” Pia said. She put her prayer beads in her pocket and followed suit. The door closed behind the three of them, feeling like it had sucked the air out with it. Rei didn’t look at either of the twins.

“I know, I know. I fucked up.”

“You think?” Spade muttered.

Scrap stirred next to the heater, disturbed by the sudden draught. He yawned, looking hopefully at the three remaining people to see if any of them would give him attention. When no-one did, he reluctantly got up and stumbled over to Rei, licking her hand insistently until she stroked his head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t even have a problem with Lekko, not really.”

“Good, coz neither do we.” There was little sympathy in Jared’s tone. “We all wore the same fucking chains in the stone camp. So since you still want to be our leader—”

“I don’t! I never wanted to be the leader!”

He shot her a hard look. “You did. And you still do. Because you need to feel in control of things. You can’t _not_ be in charge.”

Rei wavered. “What are you on about? That’s _bullshit_.”

“Bullshit or not, it’s the truth. And I think you know it.” He brushed past her, heading for the door. “You want to be the leader, Rei? You want us to follow you to the Shek Kingdom to find this Taura person? You can start by apologising to the one person we really need on our side.”

The twins left. Rei slumped back onto her chair and listlessly traced her finger across the contours of the map. She suspected Lekko was not about to accept her apology; coming from anyone else, what had been said might be considered a dig at drifters in general. But Lekko had confided in Rei, opening up about her missing husband and the unborn child she’d lost to a skimmer attack, and Rei knew the accusation she’d made was unforgivable.

There came a little _thunk_ from the table as she pulled the knife free. It had a sharp, serrated blade and a tip that was slightly blunted from where she’d jammed it so violently into the wood. For a second she was tempted to close a fist around it and allow the pain to take her mind off what had just happened. Then the urge passed, and she was left staring in horror at her own hands.

_What’s wrong with me?_

Haga. Haga had something to do with it. All it took was a blanket that was too heavy, a careless touch from Kat or Jared, a scent that vaguely reminded her of lavender, and it would suddenly feel as if she’d never left the noble-house. But if she was honest with herself, she knew there was another problem, and it was one that lay with her. Her so-called family had seen it, hadn’t they? _So much for kinship_.

“Come on, Scrap.” Not wanting to sit with her thoughts any longer, she rolled up the map and tucked it under her arm. “Let’s give this back to Moll.”

The Flotsam headquarters were almost empty this evening. Rei had been hoping she could sneak in and out without anyone noticing, but she was out of luck. Moll was sitting at the table writing by the dim glow of a lantern, and Rei’s attempts at stealth weren’t even enough to get her through the door. “Ah, Rei. Here to return the map?”

Rei blushed. She hadn’t asked Moll if she could borrow it. “Um, yes. Sorry.”

“I take it this means you’re planning to leave us, then.”

“We… _I_ was hoping to find someone. Someone who might be able to help us rescue some friends of ours. But it was a long shot.” She sighed, thinking of Lekko’s reaction. “Maybe it was too optimistic, but I needed a plan, and that was the only one I had.”

“I understand. Rei, take a seat.”

Rei sat at the table. Scrap pottered around for a bit, sniffing a barrel Rei suspected had food in it, then squeezed past the stools and lay down next to her. He was putting on weight by the day, and Rei winced as he put some of that weight across her feet. Moll set her pen down and looked keenly at Rei, her amber eyes luminous in the gloom. “Well, you weren’t wrong. The United Cities really _are_ after you.”

Someone, probably one of Moll’s young charges, had carved the crude form of a garru into the table. Rei traced the outline with her finger, avoiding Moll’s gaze. “You should be safe here,” she mumbled. “Like you said, the Machinists didn’t know where Flotsam was. And they can’t have known for sure that’s where we were even going.” But her words felt hollow. Surely there were ways and means of finding out.

“I’ve been trying to convince Yayoi of that,” Moll said. “I think I should warn you, she isn’t happy that a group of strangers has shown up here.”

Yayoi was one of the military captains. Rei had only met her once, but she hadn’t forgotten the way Yayoi’s scarred face had twitched when Moll had introduced them. “Guess the darkened beasts only add insult to injury, right?”

“Our smith is overworked,” Moll continued, as if Rei hadn’t spoken, “and our farms are under-producing. And now this. We were struggling to sustain our population, and now we’ve lost our closest trading-point.”

Rei hadn’t really considered that, and fresh knots of guilt – guilt and shame – tugged at her insides. The garru was suddenly looking a little blurry, and Moll’s eyes were like suns, too intense to look at.

“I know this isn’t what you intended, but we do have to think about our villagers… you can see Yayoi’s point, can’t you?”

“Great,” Rei said flatly. “So she wants us to leave.”

“It’s not Yayoi’s call to make.”

“So _you_ want us to leave. Fine. We’ll go. We’ll head on down to the Stenn and then… then nobody else has to die. Right?”

“Oh, Rei.” Moll’s voice was suddenly sad. “I don’t think you realise just what you’ve started.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“A lot of people are going to die, Rei. World’s End was just the beginning. That mountain? Holy Nation territory. Ever since the Holy Nation burned Bast, the Phoenix has been waiting for something like this to happen. The imperials, crossing into Okran’s Valley like that? Burning a place the paladins believed – however erroneously – to be filled with righteous Okranites? _That’s_ the excuse they’ve been looking for.”

“But the Okranites and the empire… they’ve been at war for centuries, right?” When Moll did not reply, Rei hunched her shoulders and went back to tracing the garru. “I guess I don’t know much. Just an ignorant peasant girl from the sands.”

“It’s true that they’ve been at war, of a sort. But for many years now, that war has been like a smouldering heap of ashes, and Tengu’s just fanned the flames. He was always famed for his impulsiveness and cruelty, not his common sense.”

“So you think a proper war is coming.”

“I do. Let’s just hope it takes some of the heat off us.” Moll took the rolled-up map from Rei and pinned it to the wall again. “I see you’ve made some alterations to this.”

“It was an accident. I’m sorry.”

“Another reminder of what’s happened, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry,” Rei said again. “We all are.”

The words felt ridiculous even to her. A town burned to the ground, a huge depository of ancient knowledge lost forever, a people massacred, a potential new threat to a village filled with refugees… and all she could say was _sorry_.

“We’ve faced worse. We’ll manage.” Moll sighed. “If you want _my_ personal opinion on the matter, I wasn’t so happy we were trading so much with the Tech Hunters. They’re little more than a bunch of mercenaries. They travel all over the land and they’re known for two things: drinking and bragging. Which is why I always told Pia to keep her mouth shut… not that she seems to have listened. Still, I suppose beggars can’t be choosers, and I’m sorry it had to end this way.” She stared at the knife hole where World’s End had been, then turned away. “I never met Iyo. Come to think of it, I don’t think I ever met a Skeleton that wasn’t broken and trying to kill me. But we corresponded for a time, and he seemed like a good enough person.”

“I think he was. He did help us.”

“It sounds crazy, but I always thought the University might be our salvation. Something that could pull us out of the darkness and into an enlightened, more civilised world. Not that there was ever a chance the Holy Nation would listen to a bunch of heretics with a Hiver in charge of them, and a Skeleton as his second-in-command.”

“I guess not,” said Rei.

“Anyway, I’ve got a letter to write. Need to send word to the northern scout posts, letting them know what’s happened. You think Pia will be up for running the message to Mani?”

Rei hesitated. From the sounds of things, Pia hadn’t yet told Moll of her intention to leave with the escaped slaves. “I think today’s hit her pretty hard, to be honest. She knew Iyo and Finch and the rest.”

“I thought that might be the case. Poor girl. Still, I need to get this letter written before the council meeting in ten minutes. I’d advise getting out of here before Yayoi arrives.”

Realising Rei was leaving, Scrap nudged his way out from under the table. He loitered near Moll for a moment, half-hoping for some fuss or maybe even a treat, but Moll’s eyes were fixed firmly on her writing.

“Come _on_ , Scrap.”

Before they stepped into the darkness, Rei took a look at Scrap’s injured foreleg. It was a minor fracture, or so Lekko had thought, and it seemed to be healing well – not that she knew a whole lot about animals. She gently released his paw, and he held it a little way off the ground, loping along on his three good legs. It might yet heal crookedly, but at least it didn’t seem to be bothering him. “Good boy. Let’s go back.”

The first spots of rain were beginning to fall as they walked back to Pia’s refuge. Rei was so focused on how damp her boots were, she almost walked right past Kat in the darkness. Kat, however, had evidently been looking for her. “Hi. I wondered where you’d gone.”

“I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean it.”

“Never mind me.” Kat’s voice hardened. “Why did you say whatever you said to Lekko? You really upset her.”

“I… I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, you weren’t. But you know what? Nor was I.” Her eyes were burning. “I thought we might stand a chance of getting to the Shek Kingdom. We got across the desert. But now, I don’t think we’ll even make it through the Floodlands. Not with everyone so weak, and people arguing, and… and…”

“And me in charge?”

“I didn’t say that,” said Kat, but her gaze didn’t quite meet Rei’s.

“Because I’m too fucking unstable, is that the problem?”

“I’m not interested in having this discussion right now.” In the light from the Sentinels, she looked washed out, the sickly white glow giving her a ghostly pallor that would otherwise have been impossible for her skin tone. There were still little razor bumps on her scalp where the paladins’ blades had dragged at her hair. Her face was lopsided, the swelling on her right cheek clearly visible under the thick layer of gauze and ointment. “Just… come with me, apologise to her and let’s get this done with.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. You just said sorry to me. It’s not difficult.”

“Lekko’s different.”

“You know what, Rei? I don’t care. You can make your excuses if you want. But if you aren’t going to say sorry, I’m going back to Lekko.”

She turned away. Even though her fever had broken a few days before, it had burned through her strength, and Rei could see the agonising effort in every step she took. Lekko, Moll, and now Kat… they’d all seen what she’d tried so hard to ignore. It didn’t matter how much trouble Ava and Ruka were in. The fact remained that they were in no fit state to travel.

 _Some leader_ , Haga said snidely.

“Shut up.” She’d thought she’d closed that door, but his grinning skull still imprinted itself on her mind. “Shut _up_.”

“Rei? Is that you?”

Rei had to suppress the urge to dive into the shadows out of sight; Jared had already spotted her. He was on his own this time, with no sign of Spade or indeed any of the others nearby. She assumed they were all with Lekko. “What do you want?”

He seemed unperturbed by her bluntness. “I wanted to check on you. Me and Spade, we shouldn’t have just upped and left like that. Are you OK?”

“Yes.”

It was an obvious lie in response to a stupid question and they both knew it. To Rei’s relief, Jared didn’t comment. “It’s freezing out here, and it’s starting to rain. Let’s go indoors.”

“Is that where Lekko is?”

“No. The others are still outside, trying to convince her to come back in.” There was a slight edge to his voice. “She’s pretty upset.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Rei said helplessly.

“I know you didn’t.” When she didn’t move, he added, “Come on. Just because _they’re_ out here, it’s no reason for _you_ to be standing around in the cold.”

She followed him back to the refuge, trying not to feel like a child who’d just gotten into trouble. Jared dragged a stool up to the water heater. He didn’t sit down so much as slump down. As much as the former slaves had been trying to contribute their labour to the running of the village, it was taking a lot out of them, and Jared looked exhausted. “Today’s been shit for all of us,” he said.

She hadn’t even thought to ask how he and Spade were doing, and hated herself for it. But even as she tried to formulate some kind of apology in her head, Jared was still talking. “I know it’s easy to get tangled up in your own sense of guilt… shit, me and Spade have a lot of that too. But we have to be there to support each other, not arguing and doing… whatever _that_ was.” Rei flushed, but Jared appeared not to have noticed. “And I know this place is kind of shitty, in a way the flatskins can’t understand. It’s not a great place to be a Shek. But honestly? I think Lekko has a point. Staying here, resting up, keeping safe… it’s probably the best plan for us right now, and I think you know that too.”

Rei’s mouth went dry. Her reluctant nod felt like a betrayal, the breaking of a promise she had never made. “Yeah.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you’d benefit from some rest, too.”

“I’ve had rest.”

He gave her a look. “No, you haven’t.”

“Well, nor have you. And Moll wants us helping out around here.” Even back in Bark, she’d hated sitting around doing nothing. Fetching water for the bath-house, lugging boxes and barrels from place to place, and running various errands for Moll all served to keep unwelcome thoughts at bay. In theory, tiring herself out also meant a less disturbed night’s sleep. She tried and failed to suppress a yawn. “So I’m h-helping.”

“Rei.” He got up and moved over to where she was slumped. “You need sleep.”

He held out a hand. She stared at it as if it was a spider, then very slowly reached out and grasped it. There was a slight disconnect between her brain and her movements, and it took her a second to register just how cold his hand was. “Oh… you’re freezing. And that’s my fault…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said.

“Jared.” Even though she was now standing, her fingers continued to clutch at his. “Help me. Please.”

She knew it wasn’t fair of her to ask, not when he was dealing with his own grief, not when she was drowning somewhere nobody could reach her. She hated the raw desperation and brokenness in her voice, and hated herself for being so needy.

To his credit, Jared did not pull his hand away. Instead he led her to the sleeping bag where she’d spent nearly a week of sleepless nights, and gently pulled the sides around her shoulders. “Maybe you should talk to my sister. Have you spoken to her at all?”

She flushed again; the last time she and Spade had talked had been back in World’s End. In fact, she wasn’t sure she’d had all that many conversations with anyone since they’d arrived in Flotsam. “Not really.”

“Maybe you should. About the stone camp, I mean. For her sake as well as yours… I mean, she has me to talk to, but you can relate to it in a way I’ll never be able to. And she’s struggling too, even if she’s trying to pretend she isn’t. Just give it a bit of consideration, yeah?”

Rei yanked a loose thread on the sleeping bag. _Of course it’s Spade he’s really worried about, why wouldn’t it be? I’m just a means to an end._ “OK,” she muttered finally.

“I wish I could help.”

The concern in his voice was so genuine she wanted to pull the sleeping bag over her head and hide her face, which she knew had betrayed her shameful thoughts. “I know.” Her eyes were beginning to water. _It’s the dust in the room_ , she told herself. She looked away, not wanting Jared to think she was about to start crying.

“Hey.” To Rei’s surprise, Jared put his other hand on top of hers. At that point she nearly burst into sobs, and there was no hiding the hot tears as they spilled down her cheeks. She was glad none of the others were around to witness it.

“By Kral, if I could give you a hug I would.”

“Do it.” As much as she longed for some kind of physical contact, her own muscles locked up at the thought of initiating it. She’d lowered herself enough to beg once already; she could beg again. Jared hesitated.

“I wouldn’t want to bring back any bad—”

“Please.”

His arms folded around her like a blanket, pulling her close. His touch was nothing like Kat’s, or Ruka’s, or Spade’s, but nor was it like Haga’s. There was a sleeping bag between them, protectively encasing her lower body, and the embrace itself was filled with a safety Rei wasn’t sure she’d ever felt before. Sensing her breathing had changed, Jared pulled back slightly and looked into her face.

“You doing OK?”

“Yeah.”

His hand moved to the back of her head, cradling the outline of her skull between her stubby horns. For a brief hope-filled second she wondered if he might be about to kiss her, but he simply drew her in against his chest. His heartbeat was noisy, or maybe it was hers she was hearing. It didn’t feel quite like she was in her own body, but somehow the floatiness was safe too. “We’ll get through this, Rei. One day at a time. We can do this.”

He was speaking as much for his own reassurance as hers, but Rei didn’t care. She buried her tear-streaked face in his shirt, which smelled of soil and sweat and freshly harvested crops. It still smelled an awful lot better than she did. “I’m sorry about World’s End, Jared. I know that was like a home for you and Spade…” It _had_ been their home, as far as she knew; neither of the twins had ever mentioned any family outside of one another. “I wish there was something we could have done.”

“Let’s not talk about that right now,” Jared said, but he sounded dangerously close to tears himself. “You try and get some sleep, OK? Once we’ve all had a bit of time to process what’s happened, we’ll work out where to go from here.”

“Are you leaving?” Rei said, suddenly terrified.

He snorted. “I think if there’s one thing Spade and I have learned, it’s that striking out on our own doesn’t always end well.”

“I meant right now.”

“Well, I’d better try and herd people back inside.” He paused, and Rei could hear the steady tapping sound of falling rain from the roof. The drizzle they’d felt earlier was fast becoming a downpour. “Unless you’d rather I let them find their own way back?” It was a genuine enquiry, not an accusation, but it still felt like one.

“No,” Rei mumbled unwillingly, mopping her eyes as best she could while she was still tightly pressed against his chest. “It’s OK. You can go and get them. It’s my fault, anyway…”

“What I said earlier. Don’t let stuff like this stew. I’ve worked in a lot of different Tech Hunter squads before now. The teams that had tension in them… they fell apart, every single time. Sometimes people died. Lekko’s a smart woman, she’s the only one of us who’s much good at field aid, _and_ she’s a survivalist. I know she can be a bit prickly, but her heart’s in the right place. I saw her taking care of Kat when she was sick.”

Rei didn’t answer.

“Point I’m trying to make is, she’s not your enemy. And she’s not someone to make an enemy out of, either. We need her on our team, not least because she’s just as confused and scared and broken as the rest of us. And even if you don’t want to apologise to her, at least don’t pick any more fights, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She felt him smile, and he gently prised her clutching fingers from his shirt. “Now go to sleep.”

The blanket she’d been using as a pillow had come unrolled. She turned away to fuss with it, digging her nails into the scratchy goat’s wool. Her thumbnail had a ragged edge, and as it snagged the blanket, a little drop of blood beaded on the tip. She lay down and rolled over to the face the wall, sucking the blood from her thumb. Jared chuckled.

“It was bleeding.”

“I know. Sorry.” He pulled the sleeping bag over her so her shoulders were covered. “I’ll leave you in peace… although it sounds like the others might be back now.”

Rei listened. Familiar voices sounded outside, and she could hear boots on the steps to the refuge. The rain had done Jared’s job for him. Then the storm-house door flew open, bringing a cold gust of wind and rain with it, and five pairs of footsteps bounced the floorboards under Rei as they moved back and forth. There was a slight pause, and Rei guessed that they’d seen her curled-up form in the corner.

“Don’t disturb her,” Jared said. “Let her sleep.”

“Oh, so _we’re_ supposed to be considerate of _her_ needs?”

“Lekko!”

“No, she has a point,” said Kat. For a second Rei thought she was hearing things, but there was no mistaking Kat’s Shark accent, exaggerated as it was with pain and tiredness.

 _So that’s how it is._ Betrayal stabbed Rei in the abdomen, right over the old skimmer wound on her side, as the friendship they’d built in Bark and the stone camp began to crumble into dust. “Rei’s too wrapped up in herself to have room for anyone else.”

“You know that’s not true,” Jared said firmly. “She’s been doing her best under a fuck-ton of pressure, when she was struggling to begin with. Cut her some slack.”

“Fuck that. If she’s going to treat me and Lekko like that, we shouldn’t have to just lie down and take it.”

“I’m not saying you do. Just—”

“She’s not going to sleep with you, Jared, if that’s what you’re hoping.”

The words were like a loud slap, and the stunned silence that followed was deafening. Rei didn’t dare turn over to see Jared’s face. She was glad her own was hidden from everyone else.

“Just because _your_ relationships are transactional, swamp-lander, it doesn’t mean mine are.” Jared’s voice had taken on an iciness Rei had never heard before. “And if that’s how little you think of me – and the rest of us too, for that matter – you can take your false sense of moral superiority and walk it right out this door.”

“Moral superiority, is that what you call having a backbone? Being spineless isn’t a good look, Jared. Especially not if you’re trying to impress girls.”

“Brother,” Spade said quickly, “let’s go and be alone for a bit. Someone’s gotta grieve World’s End, right?”

The door closed. Rei realised the tears had started again, streaking silently across her nose and down her cheek into the blanket. She had never known Kat to be capable of such spiteful remarks, and the accusation of self-centredness stung because she knew there was truth to it. The days when Kat would leap to her defence, to swear vengeance, to hold her when she had nightmares, were well and truly past.

“Don’t look at me like that, Pia.”

“That wasn’t a nice thing you said.”

“Nice? Like how conversations with Okran and pockets full of shells are _nice_? Maybe one day when you’re actually grown up you’ll understand the way the world works. And just to make it clear, it’s not _nice_ , it’s full of blood and tears and people who’ll burn you alive.”

“Whoa, Kat, don’t take it out on her,” Lekko said.

“Are you seriously lecturing me on emotional control and not taking stuff out on other people? Maybe _you_ should do a bit of self-reflection.”

“Kat, I suggest you take a few deep breaths and—”

“And walk it out the door? Walk it out the gate, maybe. Leave this dysfunctional so-called team to fall apart on its own.” The door hinges creaked alarmingly, and there was a bang violent enough to rattle the walls. “Great idea.”

“Kat, wait! _Kat_!”

There was a loud slam, followed by another, as Lekko’s calls became more distant. Scrap started barking, the sound too loud in the confines of the storm-house.

“I know, Scrap. I hate them right now.” A sob caught at Pia’s voice. “I hate all of them. And now I’m stuck in Flotsam with them.”

The wind howled. Rei could feel the cold, wet draught blowing through a crack in the wall next to her face. She squeezed her eyes shut against the spraying rain, choking back the tears that just seemed to keep flowing no matter how hard she tried to stop them.

 _Well, well,_ gloated the hated voice from the back of Rei’s mind. _Look at what you’ve started. And who could blame any of them?_ A pause, then mockingly, _Look at the mess you’ve made of things._ _The angry Greenlander is never going to forgive you for what you said to her. The silly little Okranite girl knows how little you think of her. The guy you like thinks you’re crazy and unstable, and only stood up for you because he pities you. The only one who doesn’t hate you is your dog, and that’s because he’d love you regardless of what you did to him._

Rei pulled the flap of the sleeping bag over her head in an attempt to drown it out, but it was an internal voice she was hearing, and there was nothing she could do that would silence Haga. She could only lie there and wait for him to finish… just as before.

_What does that say about you, Rei? Come on, I’m giving you an easy question._

“You don’t exist,” she whispered, so quietly she could barely hear herself. The last thing she needed was Pia hearing her talking to herself. “You’re dead.”

 _I am_. For a second the mental door burst wide open, and the skull grinned at her. Chunks of putrid, rotting flesh still clung to the bone, and the overpowering stench of decay hit Rei in the nostrils. She heaved at the memory – _memories_ – as a hundred different sights and sounds and smells collided into one sickening sensory overload.

Fear, rage, hopelessness, _hatred_. Haga was on top of her, pinning her down with his weight, heavy lavender breath disguising the vague scent of rot that had surrounded him even in life, stripping her of every last shred of identity and dignity and freedom. _And so are you. You just don’t want to admit it to yourself._

His world faded. Rei realised she was covered in a cold sweat, and the too-heavy sleeping bag was clinging to her. In the space of a moment it had gone from being a protective cocoon to being a prison. She tore it open and kicked the weight away, ripping the fabric from her horns. She no longer cared about the draught. Disturbed by her sudden movements, Scrap lifted his head from the ground. He sighed, rose onto his three good paws, and trotted over to give her face a reassuring lick.

“Good boy,” Rei whispered, as Scrap’s tongue wiped away the salty tears.


	2. Guards

The lady of the town had returned in the night. There had been little fanfare at her arrival, just as there had been little at her departure; most who lived in Bark had been unaware of her comings and goings. It did not do for the peasantry to know when she was out of town. The rebellious bandits, scattered across the sands in three out of four directions – the fourth being the sea – had always been opportunists. If the latest security breaches had taught anyone anything, it was that the guards were woefully incompetent.

Marisa had never seen herself as an incompetent guard. When she’d woken a week ago to the brisk, second-hand news that Lady Sanda had left for the Skimsands with her all-new security detail, the sour taste of resentment had been difficult to wash away. Like it as not, she’d been left behind without so much as a word from her lady; left alone with a cohort of new guards she barely knew, with little to do except keep an eye on things and wait for Lady Sanda to return. And now, after a week of nervous waiting, she was back.

“Well? What are you all standing around for? Someone fetch me some tea. And some sand berry cake.”

Marisa could hear Lady Sanda’s voice even through the thick, secure walls of the noble-house. She was unable to make out the frenzied scufflings of the new guards as they hastened to obey, but she knew they’d be panicking at the instructions. They didn’t seem the type to know where the tea was kept, or the cakes.

 _Wish I was on indoor duty. Then I might be the one to meet my lady’s needs._ It wasn’t the only reason she longed to be in the house, but it was the only one she was willing to admit to herself.

The morning sun was already beginning to burn. Taking care not to touch her brow with her metal vambrace, Marisa wiped away a sheen of sweat. The ocean water lapping at the shores of the little island was enticing but forbidden. She silently dared someone to step onto the bridge and cause trouble in this heat; she’d make them regret it, in more ways than one.

“Aren’t those the City Heroes swaggering about over there?” said one of the new guards. Marisa hadn’t learned his name yet. “Reckon they’ll try anything? I hear they’re all funny about the non-humans…”

Unlike the new guard, Marisa had spent her entire life in Bark, and was well acquainted with the various thugs who frequented bars and shouted slurs and insults at passers-by. “If they do pick a fight, that’s a job for the town guards, not us.”

“And what if they take issue with Lady Sanda?”

Marisa fixed him with a stern look. “Do you put our lady on a par with common Shek?” The guard, who was a Shek himself, scowled at that, but did not respond. “I thought not. She’s a noble. They’d never dare.”

“Flatskin cowards.”

Marisa had spent enough time around Kuto that taking offence didn’t even occur to her, and besides, her current state of physical discomfort was rather more pressing. Her scalp itched with sweat underneath its heavy chainmail hood. She could feel the burn of her armour even through its interior padding. Once again she thought longingly of the noble-house, which was cool and airy with the pleasant fragrance of lavender… and was currently filled with a bunch of ungrateful fools. Fools who didn’t even know which teapot to use. She scuffed the heel of her plated boot in the sand, kicking it into a small pile, then trod on it until it was flat again.

The other guards remained silent. They weren’t ones for conversation, and certainly not with the last veteran guard in Lady Sanda’s employ. Marisa got the impression they were rather scared of her, and for good reason. Her reputation as the captor of two wanted criminals had preceded her – however undeserved she privately felt that was.

It came time for the changing of the guard. Marisa was not sorry to hand the responsibility over, and she stepped into the shade of the noble-house with a sigh of relief. As she headed for the ramp, she peered around the room to see if she could see Lady Sanda, but she was hidden away behind a screen, sipping tea. Marisa could just make out her shadow through the flimsy paper, and those of her current bodyguards. Rather than linger and run the risk of getting into trouble, she continued straight to the first floor, more than ready to have a drink of water and a change of clothes.

Going up the ramp hurt. The angle put pressure on her leg in a way she wasn’t used to, and she had to place a steadying hand against the curved wall to keep herself from buckling. She’d been mostly fine when she was outside, but a few minutes of struggling upstairs was enough to send the nerves screaming again. Even when she was on level ground again, she could tell it wasn’t about to go away.

 _Great_.

Her bed was as she’d left it, blankets straightened and tucked in with such precision it looked as though it had never been slept in. She didn’t want to sit down with her armour on, but her leg was really hurting now, and she wasn’t sure she could stay standing for much longer. So she sat, hoping she wasn’t about to leave dust or grease on the blanket, and began the slow, laborious process of removing her armour on her own.

The hood was the first indication that things were not going to be simple.

It had been a scramble to get her armour on that morning. The painkillers she’d taken the night before had knocked her out harder than she’d anticipated, and she’d overslept. In her haste to get ready in time for her duties she had made a rookie mistake, completely forgetting to cover her hair before she put the hood on. For many other Greenlanders, this would have been a nuisance that was easily resolved with a bit of careful tugging. But her hair was tightly coiled, and it had tangled itself around the mail with such vigour she knew it would take all day to get it free.

 _Idiot_ , she thought wearily as she started picking strands of hair out of her hood. _That’s what I get for getting dressed in a hurry._

Like most guards, Marisa had never known either of her parents. Her best guess was that they had both been desert-folk through and through, with skin as gold as the sands and the same enthusiastically-curly hair she’d never really been able to maintain. Whoever they’d been, they’d been nobodies, and leaving their infant daughter in service to the empire was probably the only worthy decision they’d made in their sorry lives.

Marisa gave up on the hood and moved her attentions to her leg instead. Sitting down may have taken the weight off it, but she was in just as much pain as before. As she unbuckled the prosthesis, she could see why; on the outer layer of bandage she’d been using to cushion the stump, there was some unpleasant-looking staining, and when she touched a tentative finger to it, agony blazed like an electric shock. _Shit_.

She needed more painkillers, anything to mute it. The bottle that Ava had prescribed had been used up in a few short days after she’d lost her leg, and although Lady Sanda had provided her with another, she’d made several waspish comments about how she needed tough guards, not weak children who curled up and cried at a little physical discomfort. And so Marisa had been forced to take more tinctures from the medical supplies when nobody was around, knowing full well the consequences of being caught, but even more acutely aware of what would happen to her if she was seen to be under-performing. Every time she swallowed down the bitter-tasting medicine, she found herself needing more and more of it just to take the edge off, and she knew it was beginning to spiral out of her control.

And now this. The stump was not healing. There was no way she could hide it, nor her dependence on the painkillers, from Lady Sanda forever, especially not when the prosthesis was broken and constantly jamming up. She might have sobbed at that, if twenty-four years of strict discipline hadn’t stamped all the self-pity out of her.

She spent almost an hour detaching her hair from the hood, and only when it was removed was she able to make a start on the armour. By that point her desire for a cold bath had all but faded, but she forced herself to step into the tub regardless. The water washed over the stump of her leg, numbing it a little, and she took a few moments to appreciate the respite. The washing facilities were, she thought, one of the many perks of working for Lady Sanda. Ava had thrown that away in favour of a life on the run, homeless and filthy. She’d only lasted about a week, but she’d still stunk as badly as the two mercenaries by the time Marisa had caught up with her.

Ava. Such a waste of potential. She could have been one of the best doctors in the United Cities, even the world, if only she’d been more appreciative of what Lady Sanda was doing for her. Instead she’d riled up the guards with her miserable tears and Okranite prayers, and set herself up for enmity.

Marisa hadn’t hated Ava, even if the other guards had. But when it had come to capturing her and bringing her to face justice, she’d done what had needed to be done.

Once she was finished in the bath, she put on her more comfortable clothes, re-wrapped the stump and reached for her crutches. She couldn’t face the thought of reattaching the Skeleton limb, and prayed that Lady Sanda wouldn’t ask why she wasn’t wearing the leg she’d bought her. At least she was off-duty for now. She struggled downstairs on the metal crutches and stood at the base of the ramp watching Lady Sanda’s slaves scurry about making preparations for lunch. The guards wouldn’t be eating until Lady Sanda had finished her meal, but if she glared at the slaves ferociously enough, maybe they’d sneak her a little food…

“Marisa?” The shadow of Lady Sanda’s head moved behind the screen. “Come here. I want to talk to you.”

 _She’s noticed I’m on crutches,_ Marisa thought with a gulp. She manoeuvred them carefully so she could squeeze past the delicate partition without putting her elbow through it, and assumed an expression she hoped was submissive without being overly so. Lady Sanda pursed her lips at the sight of the stump, but did not pass comment. She merely waved a hand to the stool opposite her, a gesture for Marisa to sit. Marisa balanced the crutches against the table and sat down carefully.

“My lady.”

“Hmm. Making good use of your spare time, I see.” Before Marisa could reply – if she was even supposed to reply – Lady Sanda pushed a plate across the table towards her. “Have a slice of cake.”

It was small wonder that Lady Sanda left so much food on her plate at mealtimes. Her fondness for various delicacies would be enough to spoil anyone’s appetite. Marisa took a slice, trying to ignore the bloodstains under the plate. They’d sunk deep into the wood of what she assumed to be a very expensive table, and it was an unpleasant reminder of the day Ava had cut her leg off. “Thank you, my lady.”

“Tea?”

It was a question they both knew the answer to. “Yes, my lady,” Marisa mumbled.

“Lovely.” The tea was poured. “It’s been a little while since we had a conversation, Marisa. I thought I’d head out across the sands and see your handiwork for myself.”

Marisa assumed she was referring to Ava, locked away in Tengu’s Vault. “Yes, my lady.”

“I wasn’t aware that you’d had quite as much help in capturing that woman and her pet brute as you did.” The tone became sharper. “Your version of events had not led me to believe that you had been assisted by an entire samurai patrol.”

Marisa did not reply. She was too busy focusing on the steam rising from the spout of the teapot.

“I do not like being lied to, Marisa.”

“No, my lady.”

“Have you finished your slice already? Have another.”

She could have eaten the whole plate’s worth, her heart was thudding so noisily. But Lady Sanda had moved the subject on, and Marisa’s transgressions appeared to have been forgiven for now. “As you may be aware, the Noble Circle is due to hold council soon. I will require a full retinue for travel to the capital. Bark is… a small town, and appearances matter. You’ve been with me many years, Marisa, and you are the only one of my original guard who wasn’t completely intoxicated the night the doctor escaped to murder Slave Master Haga. As weak and as useless as you may have been then, you are obviously recovered enough to be capable. I would like you in my retinue. I trust you will be happy with this arrangement.”

Marisa nodded, trying to conceal the full extent of her delight. Finally she was being put to good use, entrusted with Lady Sanda’s life once again. “Yes, my lady.”

“Excellent. Don’t you want that cake?”

“Sorry, my lady.” If nerves made her eat, excitement made her lose her appetite. She crammed the last bit of dry, crumbly cake into her mouth. Looking satisfied, Lady Sanda wiped her fingers on a cloth and indicated to one of the slaves.

“Refill my teapot.”

The slave went to pick up the teapot, but the chain on his shackles caught the rim of Marisa’s cup. She winced, seeing the event play out in slow motion but powerless to do anything except witness it. When time returned to its usual speed, the cup was shattered in pieces on the floor, amber liquid seeping across the tiles. The slave, meanwhile, was frozen in fear.

“Stupid bugman.” Lady Sanda’s uppercut sent the slave’s head flying backwards into the screen with a loud tearing sound. “No wonder they kicked you out of the Hive.”

Another slave who’d been struggling with a sack of greenfruit looked over, dropped the sack and hurried to clear up the mess.

“No, not you! Keep cooking, or I’ll have my guards beat you. _This_ pathetic little drone can pick up the pieces, if it even knows how to do _that_ without breaking something.”

The slave pulled his head free from the paper screen and knelt on the floor. Lady Sanda stood up, towering above him, and just as the shards of broken porcelain were gathered into his hands, she kicked him in the shoulder and sent the pieces flying. “You clumsy, Hive-forsaken _idiot_. I entrust you with a simple task, and you disappoint me every step of the way…” Another kick. The drone had dropped all the pieces of the cup by now, and was curled up on the floor waiting for the blows to end. “This is why slavery is the best thing for worthless little stick-people such as yourself. Do you understand? _Do you understand?_ ”

Marisa rubbed her finger over the old bloodstain on the table, all too aware that Lady Sanda’s mood had changed like a wind. Another slave took the broken screen away. Marisa was half-hoping she might be dismissed, but before that could happen, the door opened and one of the outside guards stepped into the noble-house.

“What are you doing in here?” Lady Sanda demanded, as the drone sobbed. “Why aren’t you at your post?”

“I do beg your pardon, my lady, but there is a messenger outside.”

“Another bugman, I suppose.” Lady Sanda’s lip curled. “Well? Send him inside to deliver his message.”

The Hiver that entered the noble-house was rounder-faced and more intelligent-looking than the slave; Marisa knew she was looking at a prince rather than a common drone. Unlike workers and soldiers, who couldn’t keep their grubby claw-like hands out of other people’s pockets, Hive princes deceived with their lying tongues and scamming brains. She was not about to be taken in by his smart clothes and respectful little bow. “My lady, I bring a message from the emperor. May his coin purse always be full.”

“I see.” Lady Sanda suddenly looked rather less forbidding. Her smile threatened to crack the bony plates on her face. “And what is this message?”

He handed her a scroll. “World’s End is no more, my lady.”

 _World’s End…_ The name rang a bell. An Okranite city, Marisa guessed. She wondered if this was the beginning of a proper attempt to take the river-lands.

“It lies in ruins as I speak,” the messenger continued. “Captain Eyegore laid waste to it.”

“In pursuit of the lost slaves?” Lady Sanda had unrolled the paper and was scanning the text. “Have any of them been killed? Recaptured?”

“No, my lady, but Eyegore took a captive in the mountains who may be of some use to the United Cities. As for the annual council, the emperor asks that you consider this an official summons.”

Marisa’s throat suddenly felt very dry. She was glad she had finished her slice of cake. Finally, after so many years of waiting to be hand-picked for Lady Sanda’s retinue, she would be escorting her to the capital for the first time. Meeting the emperor, dining at his table, and perhaps even sitting in on the Noble Council were all privileges her friends in the guard had boasted of. Now, that privilege was about to become hers as well. She only wished she still had friends to take delight in such an achievement, but Lady Sanda had disposed of them all. “Does that mean we’ll be leaving now?” she said, forgetting her place for a second. “When is the council meeting?”

“The nobles will convene on the first day of the new month, in six days from now.” The messenger did not seem surprised by her interruption, even if Lady Sanda was scowling. “The emperor requests your presence as soon as you feel able to make the journey, my lady. I understand that you have just returned from—”

“Yes, yes,” Lady Sanda said impatiently. “Well, if that is your message, you can run back to Tengu with my acknowledgement.” Her gaze lingered over the messenger’s fine clothes. “Assuming you’re a _running_ messenger, that is. Inform him that I will be leaving tonight.”

Marisa’s eyes widened. “Tonight, my lady?”

“Marisa, those crutches are offending my sensibilities. Leave them behind. And make sure your sword is sharp.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“We leave immediately after lunch, while it is still light.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Sergal, make sure none of the slaves are idle. Tell the ones who are not making lunch to prepare enough food, drink and tents for the journey to Heft. Lars, I want gifts for Lord Tengu and Lord Ohta. Jewellery, perfumes, silks, soaps. Find a way to procure them before we leave.”

It would be a difficult job to find anything remotely suitable in a place as small as Bark. There were no jewellers or soap-makers here, and Lady Sanda was the only person in town wealthy enough to wear silk. Marisa breathed a sigh of relief that she had not been chosen for the task.

“And Marisa?”

“Yes, my lady?”

“I hope the leg I so kindly gave you is in good working order.”

Marisa bit her lip, but Lady Sanda was gone before she had the chance to speak up. She looked down at the hated stump, still oozing in its bandages, and tried not to think too hard about the journey to Heft. Walking through sand was a horrible slog, and even though she’d been back in Bark for more than two weeks, she’d barely had the chance to recover from the last journey. Now she was going to have to try and hide the fact her Skeleton limb was broken, and on top of that, act like walking wasn’t such a struggle. As much as she was looking forward to going to Heft, it was bound to be an unpleasant journey.

She was going to need a _lot_ of painkillers for it.

* * *

It was daytime.

At least, Luquin thought it was daytime. After fifteen years without ever seeing the sun, his ability to judge time had grown as rusty as the cage he was sitting in. It wasn’t like it really mattered, either way. Food happened at irregular intervals, and he never knew when certain guards would be on duty. Some of the guards were almost cordial, having watched over him for a decade and a half; others were decidedly unfriendly, even brutal. Luquin had never seen the faces behind the masked helmets, but he’d gotten used to their individual voices and mannerisms.

“Iori,” he said, recognising one of them as they passed. “Heard from your niece recently? Got promoted, right?”

“Mm,” Iori grunted. “You know guards aren’t supposed to talk to the prisoners.”

Luquin grinned and stretched his shoulders as best he could. The handcuffs always cramped his muscles. It would have been nice if someone could loosen them a little, but the Warden had never been interested in resolving customer complaints. “Well, too bad there’s nobody to talk to anymore. After what Lady Sanda did to my new friends.”

“Yes.” Iori’s voice was little more than a growl. “Too bad, Luquin.”

“I prefer Lu.”

“Lu,” said Iori, tilting his head to stare at him through the bars. “Quin.”

“We’ll get there.”

Iori left. Luquin sighed; he’d been hoping for a few tidbits of information on what was happening in the outside world. Something to chew over, keep his mind occupied for a time. It was half the reason he’d agreed to write a book in tribute to “beautiful Tengu”, the other half being, of course, that he’d been forced into doing it. Most of what he’d written had been lies, and dull lies at that, but it had been a creative exercise nonetheless.

He’d almost enjoyed it.

Now, there was nothing but darkness and silence. And, ever since Lady Sanda had gotten her hands on Ava and Ruka, the cages opposite him in the cell block had been empty. It had been a few days since Luquin had heard screams. He wondered if Lady Sanda had succeeded in torturing them to death.

It wasn’t a cheerful thought, but it wasn’t one Luquin could put out of his mind either. So instead he laid his head against the bars and waited. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear the screams again or not.

Luquin had had fifteen years of waiting. Sometimes he thought as he waited; other times, just to mix things up a little, he listened. Listening to conversations, listening to sounds, trying to work out from the general activity levels if it was morning or evening or midnight. Right now, he guessed it was about noon. The guards on gate duty were probably sweating and sweltering in the hot sun and wishing they were within the cool walls of Tengu’s Vault. _Hah, amateurs. Try being in this cooler for fifteen years. You’ll miss the blistering heat soon enough._

Sometimes, if Luquin _really_ listened, he could hear the sounds of the wind. Not today, today was a calm day, but there had been a loud dust-storm a few nights ago that had kept him awake long after the screams had died down. It had been soothing in a way. He’d never considered the Great Desert his home – he’d grown up in Catun to the far south – but the dust-storms reminded him of his childhood on the Bonefields, where gutters chased down wolves, and leviathans roamed the wastes. It had been beautiful, dangerous, and filled with a freedom Luquin had not experienced in many years. That world was gone forever and he knew it, but he still remembered those times with fondness.

But now was not a time for remembering. Now was a time for listening.

He could hear the sound of boots, the sound of something heavy being dragged across a cold tiled floor. To his surprise, the footsteps came all the way to his cell block, and an unresisting shape was thrown into the cage opposite his. She didn’t land quite inside, the chain on her ankles catching her legs across the door, and one of the guards kicked her feet in with deliberate force. Then the cage was slammed shut and the padlock clamped into place, and the guards left again.

Luquin leaned forward. This, he thought, was better than he’d been hoping for.

“Still alive, smart lady?” he whispered.

Ruka looked a whole lot worse than the last time he’d seen her, which was something of an achievement. Her eyes had glazed over, her skin glistening with sweat. Every tiny little movement was agonisingly slow, as if it took a huge force of will even to get her muscles to contract. “Oh… Lu…”

“She’s gone, right? Lady Sanda?”

Ruka’s eyes rolled for a second. “Yeah… fucked off.”

“Took her long enough.” It had to have been at least a week since he’d seen her; longer still since he’d seen Ava. “Shit, what did she _do_ to you?”

Ruka’s mouth was moving but no sounds were coming out. Luquin, who had never learned to lip-read, was forced to guess. “Electric shocks? Flogging, flaying? Suspending you by your wrists for a week? All of the above?”

“Spi… spiders.”

It didn’t sound like much of a torture to Luquin, unless she had a severe arachnophobia she hadn’t mentioned. Maybe his previous experiences had set the bar too high. “What, you mean she just… wait.” His blood ran cold. “ _Those_ kinds of spiders. Spider venom?”

Her face, pained and clammy and horrendously pale, said it all.

“Fucking hell.” Not even Tengu, famed for his cruelty, had used blood spider venom; it was too lethal. For Tengu, the death of a prisoner spelled the end of his fun, and Tengu did not like to lose his playthings. Lady Sanda, on the other hand, was a definite fan of instant gratification. A nasty thought had already crept into Luquin’s mind. “She did that more than once, didn’t she?”

“Twice… first wore off… did it again.” Her breathing was different. Raspier and a little phlegmy. It sounded like she’d spent the last week desperately trying not to suffocate. “Over now. I think.”

“Shit, lady, I don’t know how you’re even speaking to me right now. How are you not dead?”

“If Okran exists… he’d hate me, right?” Her eyes fluttered closed. “So… keepin’ me alive. Makes sense.”

Had Luquin been free of his cage and his chains, he’d have sat with her, if only to provide some reassurance. But all he could do in his current state was provide that reassurance from a distance, and none of the words that sprang to mind seemed very comforting. “Ava?”

“Not here,” she mumbled. _No shit_. “Lady… Lady Sanda made her watch.”

“Fucking nobles.”

“But she didn’t… didn’t hurt her, at least…”

In the few minutes that they’d been talking, Luquin could see that whatever paralysis had been locking up her arms and legs was wearing off. Her movements were still jerky, and he suspected a week of near-constant inactivity had laid waste to her muscles, but she was clearly trying. “You want my suggestion? Worry about your own skin for a change.”

“I’m a warrior,” she slurred. “I can handle physical pain, just… not when it’s done to her. By Kral, not when it’s done to her.”

 _Spoken like a true Shek of the southern kingdom._ Luquin, who’d been curious about Ruka’s friendship with Ava ever since the pair had been introduced to him, was beginning to get an inkling of how Ruka saw it. “What is she to you, this Okranite?”

“I…” Her voice was fading in and out. She was struggling to stay conscious. “One of the few things still worth fighting for.”

“Then I’m sorry it’s ended this way.”

Ruka did not reply. Luquin could no longer see the dark circles of her irises; her eyelids were half-closed, a crack of white just visible beneath them. The sound of ragged breathing forced its way out between her parted lips, then slowly relaxed into something a little calmer and less alarming. Luquin could only guess at the pain she had been through, and the sweet if temporary release that unconsciousness had granted her. It was quite frankly impressive that she had any fight left in her at all. He’d seen women – and men too – broken over less.

Gut-wrenching pity at her plight, disgust at what they’d done to her, anger at the nobles for treating helpless prisoners in such a fashion. Those sorts of emotions weren’t emotions Luquin felt very often, but since getting company, he’d remembered how to feel them. Maybe he wasn’t such a soulless killer after all.

From behind the bars of her cage, Ruka let out a soft groan. Unconscious, but not unconscious enough that her pain could be over. Luquin closed his itching eyes, wishing he could rub them properly. Being soulless would have been easier than this.


	3. Capital

She’d spent just a few minutes outside, and her boots were already soaked. Rei didn’t care much about the discomfort as the cold moisture seeped through the unwaxed leather, but she still wished she’d taken the time to waterproof her footwear back in World’s End when she’d had the chance. Already the toes of her boots were beginning to dapple with mould, and with supplies of leather so scarce in the village, it was unlikely the smith would replace them. She sat down on a largish rock near the wall and selected a handful of dewy grass. Scrap watched as she scrubbed ineffectually at the mould.

“Urgh, Scrap… things were so much easier when I just had sand to worry about.”

In many ways, Rei missed the desert. The frequent dust-storms had been unpleasant, as had the constant gritty feeling, but at least everything had been predictable. Hot in the daytime, cold or freezing at night. She hadn’t minded that, especially not when she’d had good company around a roaring campfire and a few lean-to canvas shelters to keep the blowing dust at bay. Life on the sands had been good. Not easy, but good.

She’d later grown to hate it. After she’d been left to fend for herself, the burning orange expanse had begun to feel like a prison, rather than freedom. That feeling had increased tenfold when the manhunters had caught up with her, and she’d been trapped, chained and hungry, a sea of sand surrounding her on all sides. Kat’s mad dash for freedom ought to have been suicide, but somehow – _somehow_ – they’d survived.

Scrap was looking expectant, his head cocked to the side. Rei picked up a stick and threw it as far as she could. His ears flopped as he ran after it; then, after a few moments of sticking his nose in the long grass, decided it wasn’t worth bringing it back to her. He returned to her side empty-jawed, and laid his head across her knees. Even a few weeks ago he wouldn’t have been big enough to do that, and Rei knew that one day he’d be twice the size he was now. It was a comforting thought. Nobody would dare approach her, let alone touch her, with something so ferocious at her side. But Scrap, who was pawing at her trousers in a bid to get her attention, wasn’t looking all too ferocious at the moment.

“I saw you bite someone’s hand off when you were a puppy,” Rei said, scratching him behind the ears. “And now you’re just acting like a softie. _Big_ softie, ooh yes you are…”

The realisation that she was no longer alone nearly knocked her off her perch. Immediately Scrap was on the defensive, regarding whoever had sneaked up on her with a baleful eye and rather more teeth than usual. Rei took a few deep breaths, trying to ignore the sudden dampness on her shirt, and looked up into Jared’s face. “Surprising me. Don’t do that.”

“Sorry.” Jared backed away, well out of reach in case Scrap decided to lunge at him. “Didn’t mean to scare you. I was just looking for you.”

“Oh.” Her face coloured. He must have heard her talking like an idiot. “Why?”

“Thought you might want to go for a walk.” He paused. “I see you’ve had a bit of one already.”

“Not much.” She stood up, rubbing at the wet patch of bonedog saliva on her trousers. “Just letting him piss, and run around, and stuff.”

“Makes sense. Don’t want him knocking things over in the house, right?”

“Yeah. And he’s not actually all that house-trained. Ruka didn’t like dogs, and Ava wasn’t that happy to have him indoors either. Back when we lived in Bark, obviously. So…” She bit her tongue to stop herself rambling, before she tripped up and said something stupid. “Where do you want to walk?”

“Just around the village. Maybe go out by the fields.”

“OK.”

They set off, Scrap keeping close to Rei’s sides. She dug her hands into her pockets, aware that Jared was watching her, and tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t make her sound like an idiot. But, to her relief, Jared broke the silence.

“It’s been a few days. You’ve been pretty quiet. Everything all right?”

“Apart from World’s End?”

He sighed. “You’ve got a point there. Listen, uh… about what happened a few nights ago…”

If she’d been at all cold in the morning breeze, she certainly wasn’t now. “Oh. That thing. Yeah.”

“I realise you probably heard what Kat said. And I just want to make it clear. I’m not doing this with some ulterior motive in mind… shit, I’m not even entirely sure being more than friends is a good idea. But… I just needed to let you know that. You deserve to feel safe, and if you want me to back off, I will.”

“I don’t need you to back off.” She shook her head. “I think you’re the only person who likes me in this place, anyway.”

“Give Kat another chance. She’s your friend.”

“I think she’s made her thoughts on me quite clear. All of us, in fact.” Rei hadn’t spoken to Kat since that night. She’d barely even seen her, and the arrangement suited her just fine. “Thanks for standing up for me, when she was saying all that stuff.”

“It’s OK.”

It was early, but the farmers were already up to tend the fields. Rei and Jared skirted the edges by the walls to avoid treading on the crops and getting yelled at by irate workers. But even though they were being careful, she could feel the hostility in their stares.

“They don’t like us,” she said.

“Well, fuck them.”

“Fuck this whole village? They _all_ hate us, Jared. The people on the gate, they called us beasts.”

Jared snorted. “They live in cannibal country, and think the Shek are monsters. Just goes to show how backward this Okranite religion is.”

“Mm. Jared, where are you actually from?”

“Before we were Tech Hunters? We grew up in the Stenn.”

Rei’s laugh was sudden and explosive. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I just can’t picture you or Spade as citizens of the Shek Kingdom.”

“Why do you think we left?”

“Oh. Ruka has a pretty strong accent, you know. But you two, you don’t sound like you come from anywhere in particular.”

“That’s the way we like it. The Tech Hunters know what the Shek Kingdom’s like. Soon as we opened our mouths, they took us for a pair of blundering, foolhardy idiots who thought with their swords. I mean, we’ve always been pretty foolhardy, but I like to think we have a brain between the two of us.”

“More than that. Aren’t you supposed to be a pair of dodgy swindlers or something?”

“I wouldn’t go _that_ far. Spade would much rather solve problems with her sword. She’s not such a fan of trickery.”

“I noticed you haven’t mentioned yourself.”

“No wise man owns up to being a dodgy swindler.”

She smiled a little at that and tugged at Scrap’s lead before he could add any fertiliser of his own to the field. The three of them followed the curve of the wall as it snaked around, twisting this way and that to accommodate the uneven terrain. Eventually they cut away from the wall altogether and trod the path between two fields, towards the main well where the villagers drew their water. At first Rei didn’t notice anyone there, but as they came closer she caught sight of Spade, sitting on the stone lip with her arms folded. She scowled a little at Rei and Jared’s arrival.

“You took your time,” she told her brother. “And what’s _she_ doing here?”

“I thought you could have a chat.”

Rei was quicker to cotton on than Spade. She turned to Jared disapprovingly. “Now I see why you didn’t want to admit to being a trickster. Was that the only reason you wanted to go on a walk with me?”

“Urgh.” Spade had just realised, too. “ _Jared!_ ”

She took a swipe at Jared and missed. He quickly ducked away. “Have that conversation, see if it helps. _Then_ you can hit me.” He walked off, disappearing around the side of the smithy, and for a few moments there was nothing but silence and the faint smell of smoke from the forge.

“ _Really_ ,” Spade grumbled. “Setting us both up like that… my brother’s a complete snake.” She glanced at Rei out of the corner of her eye. “Not that it’s one of his subtler ploys. He’d already been trying to get me to talk to you, you know.”

“Same here.” Rei looked down into the well and wondered how deep it was. “If you don’t want to talk,” she said, “we don’t have to. But maybe he’s got a point. Maybe we should.”

“Why?”

“Well, um… coz of him. Haga.”

Spade twitched. “I don’t think we have the same experiences, Rei.”

“What do you mean? We’re both Shek. And I _know_ what happened to me, happened to you as well.”

“You think because he raped you, he did the same to me?”

“Don’t use that word.”

“Why not? It’s fucking true, isn’t it? No point in shying away from it.”

“Yeah, but…” Rei wasn’t even sure why she was picking the fight in the first place. She rubbed at the bony plates of her forearms. “In World’s End. I thought you said you were his bed-warmer, or something.”

Spade’s jaw had tightened. She turned her face away.

“So, you know, we’re the same.”

“No, we aren’t. And I’ll tell you why. Because he forced you.”

“But you were a slave. Maybe you went along with it, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t…”

“You don’t understand,” Spade snapped. “And I don’t think you want to talk about this any more than I do. So you can go back to Jared and tell him—”

She stopped. Rei could see she was shivering. Her clothes didn’t quite fit her, and there were uncontrolled rips and tears where the horns on her body had been forced through the fabric. Even though it was cold, her shirt was untucked and pulled down over the waistband of her trousers. She was sitting with her legs tightly crossed, her left fist bunched in her lap. “Please just go.”

Scrap’s ear twitched. He started pulling at the leash, trying to reach something he’d smelled by the side of the well. Rei looped the rope around her fingers and held on a little tighter. “You don’t have to talk to me, Spade, but if I can help, I want to.”

A small furry shape darted out from the grassy patch Scrap had been so interested in. Rei guessed it to be a rodent of some kind; pointy nose, round ears, fat pink tail. She and Scrap watched it hurtle across the ground and into the undergrowth again, parting the long grass all the way out to the field. Scrap tugged at the lead, trying to follow it. Then, realising Rei wasn’t about to let him chase it, he settled down to sulk at her feet.

“Maybe Kat’s right,” Rei continued, watching the waving grass. “I kind of _have_ been self-centred. And whatever your circumstances… I mean, we were slaves. His will was ours. For all of us.”

Spade’s good hand shot out, grabbing Rei’s wrist. Rei, who hadn’t been looking, had to bite down a scream of surprise.

“Swear to me, Rei,” she hissed. “Swear to me you’ll never tell Jared _anything_ I’m gonna tell you now.”

Rei put her hand on top of Spade’s. “I swear.”

“OK.” Spade’s breathing was a lot quicker than it had been. Her lips moved, but the words were so garbled Rei had no idea what she’d just said.

“I’m sorry?”

“I let him do it, the first time. Fuck, I didn’t just let him do it. I asked. I asked him to. Well, I asked the slaver really, but he passed it on to Haga, and Haga summoned me, and… I let him do it, Rei.”

Rei didn’t know what to say.

“That’s how I thought you’d react. How can someone do something like that when all the other women…” She trailed off and tried again. “You know how we were treated compared to the other slaves. Better-fed, better looked-after. I didn’t want to do it, but I knew that if I was able to please him, he’d treat Jared better too. And I was so _stupid_.” She let out a choking sound that sounded like a sob. “I really thought I might be able to get some kind of bargaining power, but he was always in control. It’s not like I could say no and he’d listen.”

She really was sobbing now. Rei pressed her hand between hers.

“They called me so many things in the camp, worse names than they ever called the other Shek women. And I was trapped. I’d have killed him, you know, if it hadn’t been for Jared. I wasn’t starving like everyone else, I could have done it. But I _couldn’t_ do anything, because if I tried, Jared would have gotten hurt or worse.”

“Shit, I’d no idea. Spade…”

“And you see how I can’t tell Jared any of this, right?”

Rei had never known Spade as a slave. Now that she thought about it, however, there had been some gossip. If it had reached her, it must surely have reached Jared as well. “I won’t tell him either,” she promised.

“I spent most nights with him, you know. Before you turned up. He liked you. He said you were pretty.”

“Wish he hadn’t thought that.”

“He said he liked my boldness. I wish I hadn’t let him think I was bold, either.”

“It’s not your fault,” Rei told her, but her voice was hollow. How hypocritical was she to expect those four words to change anything, when she never listened to them herself?

“No, it is,” Spade said. She pulled her knees up onto the well. “Leaving the Tech Hunters… that was my decision, and we both paid for it.”

“I thought you were still Tech Hunters.”

“Sort of.” She shrugged. “I kind of called Finch some things after that incident with the blood spiders. Told him we were fucking done and were never coming back. I didn’t mean it… well, I didn’t mean that we were leaving. I definitely meant every name I called Finch.”

Rei smiled a little. “I bet Iyo didn’t like that.”

“What, with his _Mr Finch_ this and _Mr Finch_ that? Nah, he was pretty pissed with me. At the time at least. Probably more so than Finch was, to be honest. And after that, it was probably a good thing that I doubled down and left. We went off travelling a bit, went to Sho-Battai, and I guess that’s where our paths intertwined, right?”

“Hash smuggling,” Rei said. “You guys got framed.”

“Yeah,” Spade said, suddenly looking very guilty, “yeah, we got framed.”

“I think you and Jared need to talk.”

“I can’t. He’s the only family I’ve got. That year we spent as slaves, separated from each other…” She flexed her bandaged hand. “I’d rather lose all the fingers on this hand than face that again.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You and Kat. I kind of got the sense you two were a bit like me and Jared. Even if she _is_ a flatskin. I know she said some horrible stuff, but fuck. _I_ say some really horrible shit to Jared sometimes. Thing is, I don’t even know where it comes from. I never used to be such a bitch to him, but…”

“All the shit that’s happened. You don’t want it to, but it kind of changes the way you think.”

“Yeah. You see what I’m saying? Kat. When we turned up in Flotsam, she was in a total mess. I mean, I didn’t really talk to her before we all left the stone camp to go to Bast, but she seemed nice enough. But whatever’s happened to her since then, it’s clearly fucked her up. I think she needs you.”

“I guess.”

“How old is she, eighteen?”

“Seventeen.”

“Fucking hell. I’m twenty-two, and _I_ feel like I’m too young for this shit.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “Starting to think Lekko’s the only proper grown-up here, and she’s just as fucked up as the rest of us are. Really, what hope is there for any of us?”

“I don’t know,” Rei said uselessly. If there was no hope for her or the others, there was certainly no hope for Ava and Ruka.

“I hate this world,” Spade burst out. “I hate this world for what it’s done. I hate the people for what _they’ve_ done. I just want to go back to being a Tech Hunter and not have to think about any of the bullshit, but World’s End is gone and there’s no more University to hire us. And it’s our fault. I _hate_ it.”

A wind had picked up, flapping and rattling the canvas shelter above the well. Rain was beginning to fall again, but the wind was driving it diagonally, and the shelter was of no use to either of them. Soon, Rei thought, she’d have soaking wet clothes to match her soaking wet boots.

“Yeah,” she said, staring up at the silent mountain that was just visible through the trees beyond the wall. “I hate it too.”

* * *

If Marisa had ever been asked to define her purpose in life, her answer would have begun and ended with Lady Sanda.

It hadn’t always been Lady Sanda, of course. Back in the barracks, she’d assumed she’d become a soldier, and she’d certainly been trained for it. A string of long days spent under the hot sun, learning to swing a _nodachi_ with near-surgical precision, had been her childhood. They’d taught her how to fight, how to march in strict military formation, and even how to withstand torture. Marisa still bore the scars from those exercises, and was proud of them. They proved that she was more than suited to be a soldier; she was no coward, no weakling, and certainly no traitor.

But then Lady Sanda had chosen her for her own, and Marisa had ended up side-stepping into a slightly different role. It had been challenging at first, her rough barracks manners glaringly apparent even through a thick coat of discipline. As time had gone on, however, Marisa had learned the finer art of the noble guard, with all its etiquettes and subtleties. Knowing when to speak and when to stay silent, anticipating mood swings, doing anything and everything her lady askedof her… Marisa had never quote honed those skills to a mastery, but she liked to think she was pretty damn close.

There was no doubting that Marisa was a highly-trained guard, and she knew her worth as well as anyone. Why, then, had she not been asked to serve in Lady Sanda’s close guard, but had been told to watch the garru? Earlier in the day, as she’d stewed in the desert heat, one of those stinking creatures had butted her robotic limb, sending fiery pain shooting through the stump. She was sure it had done it on purpose.

As much as Marisa hated walking alongside the garru like some common nomad, it was always ten times worse whenever Lady Sanda stopped to rest. While the personal retinue got to shelter under a swiftly-assembled canvas tent, Marisa had to stand out in the blazing sun with other, less favoured guards, keeping an eye on a pair of temperamental garru and a half-dozen exhausted slaves.

Marisa didn’t like the slaves much more than she liked the garru. She especially disliked the newest girl, with her sunburned face and puffy eyes. She had not stopped crying since they’d had her brought from the slave-shop. Marisa gave it another day before her tears displeased Lady Sanda and she ended up being disposed of, just like the drone she’d replaced.

It was almost noon again. The sun had gone down and the sun had come up, and still they were nowhere near the capital. In terms of actual distance, Heft wasn’t all that far away; a day’s walk, at most. But even one-legged, Marisa could have outpaced Lady Sanda’s retinue with the current progress they were making. Lady Sanda spent more time resting than she did walking, and her leisurely pace was slower than that of the shackled slaves.She walked in the shade of a large parasol carried by two flanking guards, with little regard for their pale, swaying forms. It was as though she cared nothing for the emperor’s summons, either. Marisa corrected the thought before it could take root – she had no right to criticise her lady, even in her head – and busied herself with the task of managing the animals.

The coastline continued to curve as they walked. The fact they could still see the sea was not promising, and Marisa remained uneasy; their current route was bringing them past camp after camp of peasants whose livelihoods depended on fish and salt. It was difficult to tell which peasants might be dissatisfied rebels, anadditional concern on top of the skimmers. As they passed yet another makeshift village, Marisa kept her hand on the hilt of her _nodachi_ , just in case.

“Look at all these little bugman enclaves,” snorted one of the other guards on garru duty. “Well, you know what they say about Hivers and fish…”

“Mm,” Marisa said.

“Too good to talk to me, cripple?”

Marisa’s _nodachi_ was drawn in an instant. “Say that again.”

The guard glanced nervously ahead, but Lady Sanda did not appear to have heard. “As if you would dare to use that.”

Marisa slowly returned the sword to its sheath. He was right. “I might not be able to run you through, but I’m Lady Sanda’s most trusted guard. I have the power to make your life a misery, rookie, so watch your step.”

“She must care for these garru more than her own life, if she ordered you to guard them.”

She flushed. “Shut up.”

After a few more extended breaks on the dunes, afternoon turned into evening. Marisa prayed the breeze that was stirring the sand around her footsteps would not pick up and turn into a full dust-storm. She reached a hand under her hood, tweaking the black scarf over her hair and wishing she had another to cover her face. Hopefully Lady Sanda was about to give the order to set up camp, and they’d be able to raise a few extra shelters before it got too dark to see properly.

“Are those lights?” someone said, pointing to the horizon.

Marisa looked. There were indeed lights up ahead, their positioning indicating a walled settlement of some kind. For a stupid moment she thought they were finally at Heft, but then she remembered the sea. This had to be Port South, one of the desert stone-mining towns. To her surprise and relief, they continued to head straight towards it, and passed through the gate just as the evening stars were coming out.

“My lady. It’s an honour that you—”

“Yes, yes. Bring me to Wada.”

As pleased as Marisa was to be spending the night in comparative safety, there was something a little off-putting about strolling through a slave-camp. She walked a little closer to Lady Sanda, leading the garru and trying not to feel too much like a trader. They went up to the noble-house where the slave master lived, and greetings were exchanged. The door was opened, spilling warm, comforting light into the cold night.

“Guards, come with me. Not you, Marisa. You and the other two can stay with the garru and the slaves.”

The other guards went in, and the door closed. Marisa huddled into her heavy, chafing uniform and wished it was a little more padded. It looked like she’d be sleeping next to the animals again.

She sat apart from her two comrades; it didn’t take much social intelligence to see that she wasn’t wanted. At least it gave her a little privacy to remove the most uncomfortable parts of her armour. She took the hood off and scratched at her itching scalp. The horrid garru stench had already found its way into her hair.

The night grew colder. The desert skies were always clear, but the beautiful expanse of stars scarcely made up for the frozen ground. Marisa pulled the sleeping bag up to her chin and watched the slaves crawl up to the garru for warmth. The new girl was shaking so violently with shivers and sobs that Marisa resigned herself to another night of no sleep. _Weak flesh._ She would not have lasted long in the training barracks. Small wonder she was barefoot and shaven-headed and wearing shackles.

Marisa reached into her pocket, clinging to the tiny, stolen bottle. _I can handle the pain_ , she tried to tell herself, but she’d clamped down on her bottom lip so tightly her teeth had almost pierced through it. She swore to herself and downed the painkiller, hating her own weakness, hating the stump and its robotic replacement, hating that she owed her life to an Okranite who had taken everything else away from her.

She leaned back against the garru and closed her eyes. The draught began to take the edge off the pain, filling her with a drifting warmth that increased in intensity the longer she sat there. Finally, that peace she’d been itching for all day was upon her, and all the little aches and annoyances had faded into nothingness. They’d be in Heft soon enough, but for now, she just needed to sleep…

A chain clanked somewhere near Marisa’s head, the toes of a foot kicking her in the side. Groggy consciousness returned, albeit unwillingly, and the sense of sleepy peace became waking confusion.She opened her eyes to find the stars were spinning.

“What d’you think you’re doing?” she slurred.

The figure next to her froze. Marisa blinked a couple of times, trying to refocus, and vaguely made out the gleaming shackles. Judging by the figure’s size and build, it was the young slave woman who’d been crying so much earlier. “I wouldn’t try anything, if I were you. You can’t get away.”

The girl frantically shook her head. She lifted her chained hands, indicating the garru’s backpack, then hugged them against her chest. Marisa glanced across at the other slaves, who seemed to be sleeping peacefully, then back at the girl. “The sleeping bags are for Lady Sanda and her guards, not for the likes of you. Now go and lie back down over there.”

Marisa had thought her instructions clear enough, but the girl evidently chose to misinterpret them, because she sat down where she was standing. The chains clanked some more. Marisa was beginning to regret securing the girl to the harness of the same garru she was sleeping next to. “Sleep on the other side. I don’t want to have to smell you.”

The girl started to cry again. Her crying was grating, a little choking sound punctuating each sob. Marisa tried to ignore her, but even with a tired and fuggy head, it was impossible to tune her out. Ungrateful weakling. The girl could so easily have been a slave in a camp like this one, but instead she’d been given in service to the empire. Far from crying like a baby, she should have been thrilled and honoured at her new opportunity.Marisa lay down with her head as far away from the slave as she could manage, and wondered if it was worth going back to the other guards. But the world felt too unsteady right now, and she’d unbuckled her leg to give the stump a chance to rest. So she stayed where she was, the girl’s whimpers becoming one with her dreams as she slid back into drug-induced stupor.

* * *

Marisa did not find it easy to wake up in the morning. It was a fight to open her gluey eyes, and even more of one to sit up. When she finally hauled herself into a sitting position, she realised just how much her head hurt. She wasn’t sure if it was the side effect of the painkillers or if she’d caught too much sun the day before.

The slave girl was still asleep. Somehow, she was just as irritating unconscious, her shallow breathing hitching every now and again like a strange little sob. She stirred at Marisa’s own movements and lifted her head from the ground. Half her face was covered in dust, which clung resolutely to her cheek even when she rubbed at it.

“Suppose you’d better eat before we get started,” Marisa said grudgingly, searching for her rations. Lady Sanda was probably tucking in to a huge hot breakfast as she spoke.

It took a while to get ready; Marisa’s armour was already radiating heat in the sun, and she had to wrap her head-scarf around her hand before she could even pick it up. Once she’d dusted off her guard’s uniform as best she could and put it on, it was time for the mechanical leg. She had to brace herself; that first moment when the leg made contact with the raw stump was always the worst part. After a few tested steps to get used to it again, she was ready to go. All she needed to do was wait for Lady Sanda.

Lady Sanda emerged from the noble-house looking far more refreshed than Marisa felt. She had changed her clothes, swapping out her green travelling robes for her blue, and had put something on her horns so they gleamed even more than usual. “Marisa, fix your hood. Your hair is showing.”

“Sorry, my lady.”

“Have the slaves fed the garru?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Good. In that case, let us depart. I want to be at Heft before sundown tonight.”

“Yes, my lady.”

The day was a long one, with far fewer stops than that of the previous day. In fact, it was not until the distinctive orange sands of the Great Desert gave way to coarser, paler sand that Lady Sanda saw fit to take an extended rest. With the walls of the capital now visible even through the heat haze, she ordered the slaves to unload the screens from the garru and arrange a dignified changing-spot. As Lady Sanda preened herself and had the slaves dress her up, Marisa held the garrus’ harnesses, and tried to ignore the copious amounts of shit they were leaving on the dunes.

In spite of her diminished position, Marisa still felt pride as they moved forward into the city. Lady Sanda’s robes glittered with little jewels around the hems, and the deep red silk was so smooth-looking Marisa longed to reach out and take it between her fingers. She’d never been one for fashion, and it wasn’t as though guards ever got to wear fine clothes, but she still found herself wondering what it might look like on her. She suspected it would suit the garru better than it would suit herself.

Lady Sanda’s pace quickened as they reached the city gates. Marisa did the same, not wanting to fall behind, and immediately realised her mistake. As she sped up, she was rewarded with a soft _thunk_ in her mechanical leg, followed by a burst of pain that sent dark spots dancing across her vision. But far, far worse than the pain was the smirks of the city guards, and Marisa knew they’d noticed.

 _Shit._ The knee hadn’t bent properly since the battering the Okranites had given it, even though Marisa and Ceras had done their best to patch it up. _Shit, shit, shit. Lady Sanda is going to kill me for embarrassing her._

She could scarcely think of a worse time for her leg to jam up. In fact, she wasn’t even sure Lady Sanda was aware of the problem. She’d done her best to hide the true extent of the damage, covering the snagged and twisted metal with her armoured trousers when she was on duty and baggy cargo-pants when she wasn’t. Whenever she’d managed to steal a few moments alone in the noble-house, she’d take a tool kit to the leg and attempt her own repairs, but they’d largely been unsuccessful. Now the loose cogs were rattling audibly again, and she knew there would be no more hiding it from Lady Sanda.

The new slave was staring. She too had noticed the problem, even if Lady Sanda, striding ahead as the city-folk fled her path, had not. Marisa glared at her. The girl turned her face away and moved to catch up with the other slaves, stumbling in her chains. The shackles had rubbed her ankles red raw, and her bare feet left smears of blood in the sand. At least she wasn’t crying anymore. Marisa wondered what was worse: a red-eyed, snivelling slave, or a guard who was obviously lame. She kept her head down, the back of her neck prickling as passers-by stared, and tried to focus on nothing more than putting one awkward foot in front of the other.

As much as Marisa had been looking forward to seeing what the capital was like, it was difficult to think past her own sense of shame. Thus it was that her first impressions of Heft were of the ground, and just how foreign the sand looked in comparison with Bark. There might, once upon a time, have been some kind of paved road down the main thoroughfare, but it had been lost to years of sandstorms. As a result the terrain was difficult, and whilst the sole of her samurai boot had some good tread on it, there was no grip at all on her jammed leg, and she stumbled into the garru several times.

“Marisa,” Lady Sanda said, coming to a stop, “we are dining with Lord Ohta this evening. Have the slaves unload his gifts.”

Marisa did as she was told. She snapped her fingers at the slaves, who scrambled to open the garrus’ backpacks. As they brought out the silks and fragrances Lars had sourced, she noticed they had come to a noble-house just like the ones in Bark and Port South. Marisa tried to suppress her disappointment; with this being the capital, she had expected Lord Ohta’s abode to be a little more impressive.

“My lady.” Lord Ohta’s guards bowed. “We would be honoured to inform our lord of your arrival.”

“Yes, yes. Tell him Lady Sanda has arrived.”

The guards sent one of their number into the noble-house. The woman returned a minute later, bowing so deeply her nose almost touched the ground. “My lady, Lord Ohta has been informed of your arrival. Should it please my lady, we shall show you inside.”

“Of course. The slaves can come in, but you’ll need to find someone to take care of the garru.”

Marisa took that to mean she was included in the invitation, and followed Lady Sanda at a respectful distance. Lord Ohta’s guards averted their eyes from her leg as if it were something shameful, but to her relief, they did not draw it to Lady Sanda’s attention. The doors closed behind the last slave, leaving them standing in a luxuriously-furnished room that far outmatched that of Lady Sanda’s noble-house in Bark. Marisa tried to keep her dusty boot and oily leg away from the beautifully woven carpets. She did not want to think about how much dirt and blood the slaves were treading in.

“Ah, Sanda,” boomed a voice, as a large shape squeezed himself out from behind a screen. “Good to see you again at last.”

Lord Ohta was a large man, with fat and muscle all rolled into one bulging mass. His neck was thicker than Marisa’s thigh, and if the volume of his voice was anything to go by, he had an impressive set of lungs as well. “I trust you had a pleasant journey?”

“Oh, not at all bad.” Lady Sanda sounded almost coquettish. She fluttered like a maiden when he kissed her hand, and only seemed to come to her senses when a dark-haired woman stepped out to stand next to Lord Ohta. “Oh, Emika! _Emi._ How very lovely to see you. Keeping well, I hope.”

“As always, Sanda, a pleasure. Yuto, Nobu, say hello.”

Marisa assumed Yuto and Nobu to be Lord Ohta’s children, and Emika to be his wife. She hung back as greetings were made and pleasantries exchanged. Then the slaves brought forward the gifts, and there followed a few moments of stilted conversation as the Heft nobles looked them over.

“I suppose if these are Bark’s finest… Well, slaves, what are you waiting for? Take them upstairs. Now, Sanda, can we offer you or your guards anything?”

“A little of the special rum would not go amiss, if you have it.”

“Oh, Sanda, when would we ever run out?” Lady Emika tittered. “It’s not as though we can’t afford it!”

Marisa thought she knew what the ladies were referring to. Bloodrum, a strange concoction of hashish and alcohol, was illegal in the United Cities, but the nobility drank it by the bucketful. “Do take a seat, Sanda. You there, slave, bring out the drinks.”

The slave bowed and retreated behind one of the screens. He was quick and obedient in a way that put Lady Sanda’s slaves to shame, and only a moment passed between Lady Emika’s order and the arrival of a tray of brimming pearl cups.

“We set aside a table for the guards, too,” Lord Ohta said. “Perhaps yours would like to sit? And we have some dinner being prepared for you.”

Marisa had never known such luxury even in Lady Sanda’s house. The seats were cushioned, the tables spread with indigo cloths. A skilled embroiderer had stitched a design of beautiful golden birds, with jewels for eyes, into the tablecloths. Marisa remembered how she had admired Lady Sanda’s silk robes, and stole another glance at them. They seemed rather plain in comparison.

“You do have a beautiful home, Ohta,” Lady Sanda simpered.

“We have some talented craftsmen.”

Marisa was glad Lord Ohta had never paid Bark a visit; she imagined he would have been disappointed by just how sparse Lady Sanda’s house was. It was a disloyal thought, and the heat crept up her neck as she realised she was ashamed. _Ashamed of my lady… how could I?_ _I am the one bringing shame to her, not the other way around._

“So, you must tell us, Sanda,” said Lord Ohta as the slaves laid plates of bread and meat on the tables. “How is Bark prospering?”

Marisa was sure she wasn’t imagining the tension that question had just generated. She turned her attentions to the food instead, and seeing that the other guards were piling their plates, did likewise. She had never eaten cured meat before, nor had she eaten bread that tasted so soft and fresh. There were strange little white lumps on the plates too that she didn’t dare touch, but Lord Ohta’s guards were scoffing them.

“What are they?” she whispered to the man sitting next to her.

“You’ve never had cheese before? What do you lot eat up there? Just fish?”

It wasn’t far from the truth, and Marisa scowled. But the man just chuckled and put some cheese on her plate. “Made from goat’s milk. It’s an ancient art. Not many in the world know how to make this.”

Marisa didn’t doubt that. She nibbled at the waxy corner of the cheese and decided that the cloying, slightly sour taste wasn’t for her. So she set it aside and took a gulp of water instead. She almost felt like a noble herself, eating strange new foods in this ornately-decorated house, and it wasn’t until her stump stabbed with pain that she remembered the issues she’d been having earlier. She tried to straighten her leg under the table, and failed. _Fuck, it’s completely busted._

More food was brought out and laid on the table. Once again Marisa hesitated, but it wasn’t a trick. So she ate and ate, until the waistband of her armoured trousers felt too tight and her eyes begin to drift closed with a pleasant tiredness. She’d never been allowed to eat as much as she wanted before now, and it was rare indeed that she was presented with a veritable feast like this. Everything would have been perfect right now, if only she’d still had her leg…

Over on the other table, the nobles’ conversation had turned to the upcoming assembly. Marisa listened, trying not to make it too obvious that she was listening. She had never been very up to date on political affairs, no less because Lady Sanda never entertained visitors of her own, and the nobles were throwing out all kinds of names she had not heard before.

“Tengu wants to bring Lord Aramid into the Inner Circle… a terrible idea, really, but who can oppose him?”

“I thought he hated Okranites.”

“Oh, he does, to be sure, but you can’t deny Lord Aramid is something of a curiosity…”

“Pah, the man is barely landed.”

“He controls half the sands to the west of Heft, Emi.”

“The _sands_. Where is his town? Even the slave masters oversee camps, but what does he own? Just a flat expanse of desert.”

“I wouldn’t say that to his face, my sweet.”

“What’s he going to do?” Lady Emika laughed humourlessly. “Poison me?”

“Perhaps not in the physical sense, but he’s a treacherous man. I wouldn’t cross him, not when he sits in Tengu’s pocket.”

“Hmm. Okranites sicken me. Sanda, is it true that you had an Okranite in your household? Didn’t she run away and kill Slave Master Haga?”

Marisa grabbed more cheese off the plate, forgetting that she didn’t like it, and chewed it as fast as she could. But even when she bit her tongue, nothing was able to distract her from the furious silence. Even Lord Ohta’s guards were looking uncomfortable.

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d house a murderer, Sanda.”

“I had her captured and brought to Tengu’s Vault to face justice, justice that I personally saw to,” Lady Sanda snapped. “I’m sure you’ve heard that Tengu himself sent Eyegore after her associates?”

“Still,” observed Lady Emika, “I would not have called it particularly good judgement, to entrust an Okranite to be your doctor.”

Lady Sanda’s face became a little blotchier. “She saved the life of my guard.”

“Ah yes, the cripple with the funny walk?”

The blotchy face turned suddenly pale. “What?”

“Is she talking about you?” murmured the man sitting next to Marisa.

Marisa didn’t answer. The dry aftertaste of the goat’s cheese was enough to churn her stomach, and she could taste vomit on her recently-bitten tongue.

“Who made that limb of hers?” Lady Emika cooed, driving the knife a little deeper. “The bugmen?”

“As if an imperial noble would ever purchase _anything_ from those thieves,” Lady Sanda spluttered. “Your presumption offends me, Emi.”

“My mistake, Sanda. I thought that might be all you were willing to spend.”

Marisa didn’t dare look at Lady Sanda any longer, not even to confirm the trouble she suspected she was now in. If only she’d been a little more careful, both on the journey and back with the Okranites on the Skimsands, none of this would ever have happened.

She was beginning to regret her earlier enthusiasm for the capital.


	4. Errand

It had rained for the better part of a week, and the ground was deep with mud. Kat had never thought such miserable weather could bring her such peace.

She’d found a spot, tucked away behind the Flotsam headquarters, that served to shelter her from the worst of the wind and rain. It was a good spot, made even better by the fact nobody could see her unless they stood on the top of the wall and looked directly downwards. It might have been pretty cramped, and she couldn’t even sit against the wall and stretch out her legs, but somehow the confines felt safe.

She dug her feet further into the cold mud. It felt soothing, the mud squelching in between her toes, the tingling drizzle settling in her bristly hair. She could hear the sounds of muffled voices as people talked inside the headquarters. Moll was holding lessons for the villagers, or maybe Yayoi was doing some kind of war council in there. Kat couldn’t tell what anyone was saying, and she didn’t care to find out. She knew as well as anyone else that neither she nor the others was especially popular after what had happened to World’s End.

World’s End… It had been a week. In some ways it felt like more, in some ways like less. Moll had sent out scouts a few days before, to check the imperials were not still lurking like death on the mountain. The scouts had returned with a grim confirmation of what Kat had already known. World’s End was a ruin, its inhabitants reduced to charred and rotting carcasses. The mere description had been enough to turn her stomach, and her dreams that night had been filled with the stench of smoke and the tormented screams of the emperor’s victims. The United Cities and the Holy Nation might have been enemies, but they used exactly the same terror tactics, and Kat hated both with all the fire still burning in her heart.

There was plenty of fire still in her, though she knew it was more destructive to herself than to anyone else. She wished it would go away, but no matter how cold and soaked she became, nothing would quench it. She scrunched up her toes and plunged them deeper into the muck. The cold had made her feet numb enough that she could no longer feel her scratches and blisters and torn and broken toenails. Had it not been for her concerns about infection, she would have lain face down in the mud, and allowed nature to soothe the painful, still-healing burns. Even so, the knowledge of what had nearly happened to Ruka was only just enough to keep her from doing it, in a last-ditch attempt to put out the fire once and for all.

“Kat?”

She jumped, but there was nobody around. This was the worst thing about solitude; after a few days of sitting on your own, your mind started to fill in the blanks. She hugged her knees, her soaked, too-large vest clinging to her body like a second skin, and closed her eyes. If she fell asleep surrounded by wet grass and freezing mud, perhaps the fire would leave her alone for a night…

“Kat?” A hand was shaking her shoulder. “Kat, are you OK?”

“Go away,” she blurted unthinkingly, her perfect, undisturbed sanctuary crumbling away into nothingness. “I don’t want you here… just piss off, please.”

There was a pause, but whoever it was showed no signs of leaving. Slowly and unwillingly, Kat opened her eyes, ready to glare at whoever had ruined her private space. But the face looking into her own was so concerned that her resolve faltered, and she turned her head away to stare at the mud oozing around her ankles.

“I’m sorry,” said Lekko. “I know you came here to be alone. Can I sit down?”

“You’re not a slave anymore. You can do what you want.”

Lekko sat. It had only been a few weeks since they’d met, but she already looked far more like a free woman. She’d acquired a straw hat and a tatty, homespun shawl which wrapped around her shoulders and tied at the waist. “We’ve barely seen you in a week, Kat. People are worried about you.”

“They aren’t. They hate me.”

“Nobody hates you, Kat.”

“Well, if they were smarter they would.” Kat made a fist with her good hand and punched the grass. There was a little splash as her fist made contact with the mud underneath. “I was horrible to them. And I was horrible to you as well, so…”

“But you’re not a horrible person, are you?”

“Maybe I am.”

A cold breeze blew. Lekko reached out, laid her hand on Kat’s arm, and flinched. “Fucking hell, you need to warm up. How long have you been sitting out here?”

“Don’t know.”

“Let’s go back to the refuge. I’m sure Pia will let you borrow some of her clothes.”

“Leave me alone, Lekko.”

“If I thought it was in your best interests, I would.”

“You’re not my mother,” Kat snapped, “so stop trying to act like you are.”

Lekko’s hand moved away from her arm. Even with the fire raging in her soul, Kat got the sense she’d made a mistake. “I might not be your mother, Kat. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to help you. Your family… are they back in the swamps?”

“Dead.”

“Oh, Kat, I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not. You don’t care.”

“I know what it’s like to lose people,” Lekko said.

Kat pulled her feet out of the mud. Her muscles were so rigid with cold it took her a good few seconds to completely extricate herself. “Great, we all do. What is it they say, nobody who had a family and a happy life ever became a wanderer? Pretty sure something similar applies to slaves.”

“As a drifter, I have to disagree with that saying,” Lekko said, but she sounded less angry than Kat had thought she’d be. “You don’t have to be alone, Kat. I know you’ve been finding things difficult, especially since World’s End, but—”

“They burned a girl alive in Rebirth. Her name was Iza. She was maybe eighteen. They branded her with their mark and tried to make her pray, and she escaped. Only she didn’t. They caught her and broke her legs and made her stand at a stake and made us all watch. Did you know that when you get burned alive, your bones pop and all the fat comes oozing out? It smells like meat, and you know what that means? When you haven’t eaten properly in days, the smell of a person burning to death is enough to make you salivate. And you hate yourself for it, especially when the person they’re burning is now the closest thing you have to a friend, and you don’t even manage to get a good hit on the bastard who’s torturing her to death. And she didn’t have to die. She _shouldn’t_ have died. She died coz she was a Shek who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and tried to escape that twisted hellhole of a quarry, and she probably never even did anything wrong but they still killed her in the most horrible way imaginable.”

Lekko did not reply.

“Is that something you know about, Lekko? Fire? And they did that to World’s End, they probably burned the people at World’s End alive in their houses, and for what crime? What had those people done? _What had any of them done?_ ” She screamed the last bit, hoping to make Lekko flinch or do something other than watch her with that stupid impassive expression. But Lekko’s only reaction was a slight tremor in her eyebrows. “So many people have died, Lekko. My friends have been tortured. Of course I’m fucking finding things difficult.”

“And you’re stuck in a strange place with a bunch of strangers.” Lekko indicated Kat’s hiding-place. “Look, I’m not going to tell anyone else about this. I only found it coz I was looking everywhere for you, and if you _do_ need to break away at any point and be on your own, I’ll respect your privacy. But you’re going to get sick again if you sit around soaking wet. And even if it doesn’t, it’s only going to make you feel worse.”

Kat shrugged.

“Will you at least come back inside where it’s warm?”

“If you _really_ feel sorry for me, you can always bring me a blanket.”

Lekko stood up with a slightly exasperated sigh. “Do you think your friends would want you to sit here and punish yourself like this?”

“I’m not punishing myself.”

“You deserve to feel safe, Kat. And surrounded by people who want the best for you. I can’t promise the former, but I think we can help with the latter.” She held out a hand. “I think you need a change of scene… and clothes. You can come back here afterwards if you still want to.”

Kat couldn’t be bothered to fight anymore. She reached her good hand up towards Lekko’s and struggled up from the mud. Her muscles felt weak from inactivity, and she staggered. Lekko caught her and gently set her upright. “Those dressings are pretty dirty too. We’ll get them looked at as well, yeah?”

They went back to the refuge, Kat leaning on Lekko for support. The wet grass brushed against their legs, cleaning the worst of the mud off Kat’s feet. She barely noticed or cared. Even when they were inside the storm-house, the idea of leaving dirty footprints on Pia’s floor seemed so trivial it didn’t even register with Kat until Lekko winced.

“Sit down next to the tank where it’s warm. I’ll get some hot water.”

Kat pulled up a stool. The water had just heated, and the tank was humming gently. Lekko fetched a bowl from a stack of random objects by the wall, and turned the tap until steaming water poured into it.

“You’re how old, sixteen? Seventeen? You’ve had a lot of shit thrown at you, yet… you’ve been pretty fucking brave about it. There’s adults out there with far less mental fortitude.” Lekko laid the tub at Kat’s feet. “But you can only hold out for so long before something gives. Nobody’s gonna think any the less of you for struggling.”

Kat dipped her big toe into the water. “How old are _you_ , Lekko?”

“Oh boy, that’s a question. Thirty-five, give or take a year either way.”

“Huh. I guess that kind of _does_ make you old enough to be my mother.”

“If I’d carried my pregnancy to term, my kid would have been about your age.” Seeing Kat’s curious expression, Lekko smiled sadly. “It’s the drifter’s lot. You always think you don’t have a lot to lose, then life surprises you. But it was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter now.”

Kat knew she was lying, but didn’t have the mental energy to press it. She plunged both feet into the bowl, gasping at the sudden change in temperature. Lekko put a blanket around her shoulders and retreated behind one of the screens. “I’d at least take your shirt off, if I were you. The cold gets into your bones if you sit in wet clothes for too long.”

The blanket was scratchy against her bare skin, but at least it was warm. Lekko came back with a cloth and another bowl, which she filled from the tank and set on the table near to Kat. “Right, give me your hand.”

The swelling on Kat’s hand had gone down considerably over the past few days, and the burn seemed to be healing in spite of the mud and damp. Lekko discarded the sodden bandages, cleaned it out and re-bandaged it, winding the dressing further up Kat’s wrist than she was used to.

“I’m not going to be able to flex it.”

“You shouldn’t be flexing it anyway. Now, turn your face towards me?”

The gauze had been loosened considerably by the weather, and offered little resistance to Lekko’s cool touch. Kat didn’t miss the expression that flitted across Lekko’s face as the dressing was peeled away. She suspected it had fared worse than her hand.

“It’s not infected, is it?”

“If it is, I don’t think it’s too serious. It just isn’t healing as well as I’d like it to. The scarring might be worse than I’d thought.”

“Never mind,” Kat said more casually than she felt, “it’s a brand. It’s not there to look pretty.”

“I can get a mirror and show you how it looks,” Lekko offered, but Kat shook her head.

“I don’t need to know.”

“Fucking bastards, branding a girl on the face like that.”

“Guess they wanted to make it obvious I was a heretic.”

“Still fucking bastards,” said Lekko.

The feeling was starting to return to Kat’s numb toes. She hadn’t realised just how cold she’d been, but as she hugged the blanket against her chest, she could see why Lekko had been so concerned. “When did it stop hurting? When they branded you?”

“After a few months.” Lekko rubbed the Trader’s Guild mark on her neck. “Don’t think this one healed particularly well, either… still, you don’t get through life without at least a couple of scars to show for it, right?”

“I guess so.”

Lekko put the lid back on the ointment. “How does it feel now?”

“Stiff.” Kat had gotten used to most of the discomfort. “Painful. But it feels better than it did. I think the ointment kind of soothes it.”

“I’m glad. There wasn’t much I could do for mine. Seems like the ointment was a good shout. How are your feet?”

Kat stared down at them impassively. “They’ll heal up when I get a pair of boots.”

“Hmm. You might be waiting a while for that.” Lekko took the cloth she’d been using on Kat’s face and rinsed off the ointment in the tub. “I can bandage them up for you if you’d like.”

“I’ll have to stay in the house if you do that, right?”

Lekko rolled her eyes. “It’s generally advisable to stay put and rest up when you want to heal. You’re every medic’s worst nightmare.”

“I’m sure Ava would agree.”

“You really do miss them, don’t you?” Lekko said softly.

“It sounds stupid, since I didn’t know them for that long, but they were like family. Them and Rei.” She took the cloth from Lekko and wiped the dirt off her feet. “I don’t even know with Rei anymore. She killed people back in the stone camp, cold-blooded. And I don’t get the feeling she likes me all that much anyway.”

“Rei’s struggling same as you are.” Lekko moved the bowl away and helped Kat stand up. “I wouldn’t judge her too harshly. The cannibals are still fresh in her mind, just like Rebirth is for you.”

They sat down in the makeshift sleeping area they’d been using for the last two weeks, arranging blankets and floor cushions around themselves to make the hard floor a little more comfortable. Overcome with a sudden tiredness, Kat stretched out into a supine position and stared up at the ceiling. “Lekko?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you feel safe here?”

“I—” Lekko hesitated. “The people in this village, they’re Okranites. They might not be holy citizens, they might be the enemy of the people who killed Iza… but they’re still Okranites.”

“Don’t the drifters like Okranites?”

“Let’s just say we have a whole different set of beliefs.”

“Not all the drifters, surely.”

Lekko laughed. “You’re confusing drifters with wanderers and nomads. It’s only on the surface that we all seem the same… we go from place to place and live most of our lives in the wilds, after all. But we drifters, we have our own bloodlines and our own stories and our own culture. Not that the outsiders know a lot about it. We tend to keep to ourselves and not mix with the city-folk, nor the wandering vagrants who give drifters a bad name.”

“So what do drifters believe?”

“That’s a big question.”

“I mean, do you have a god, like Okran?”

“They aren’t gods so much as…” Lekko paused. “As entities. All the spirits of the sky dwell among the stars. They’re too ancient to be considered good or bad, so they aren’t swayed to help or guide you based purely on the deed you’re trying to accomplish… it’s all about how you persuade them. Kind of difficult to explain to a city girl.”

“Oh. I guess we didn’t really have religion, in the swamps.”

“Even if you’d grown up worshipping Okran, I doubt you’d have understood our view of things.”

“Maybe not.” Kat thought for a moment. “I know what you said about staying put, but you’ll be wanting to leave this place when you can, right?”

“I don’t know,” Lekko said heavily. “I was married, you know. When the slavers kidnapped me. I’ve no idea what’s happened to my husband, and going back to the wilds without him… well, the drifter life is a dangerous one to solo.”

“I’m sorry about your husband, Lekko.”

Lekko did not reply. Kat looked up and saw her face had tightened. She was blinking a lot faster than normal.

“What was his name?” she asked.

Lekko shook her head fractionally. “When someone is lost to you, speaking their name is considered to bring misfortune on them. At least, that’s what drifters believe.”

“Oh. So Ava and Ruka… you don’t want me saying their names?”

“Maybe it just applies to drifters.”

“Better to be safe though, right?” In spite of the subject matter, Kat was surprised to discover that the fire hadn’t been burning anywhere near as fiercely as it had been before. Even when Lekko had mentioned Iza, she had not felt the flames leap up, and the still-raw memory of Iza’s burning flesh and the stink of cooked meat in her nostrils had stayed as a memory. “By the way, Lekko…”

“Mm?”

“Thank you.”

“Hey, it’s no problem.” Lekko laid her hand on Kat’s head in a way that reminded Kat of something her grandmother used to do. She bit down hard on her lip as her eyes began to swim. “Do you want me to leave you to rest?”

“Actually, would you stay? I don’t think I want to be on my own now.”

“Of course I can stay, if that’s what you want.”

If she closed her eyes, she could pretend that she was back in Shark with her grandmother sitting next to her. She could almost smell the hash smoke from her grandmother’s pipe, and the damp, herbaceous scent of the riceweed growing in the submerged fields behind the swamp-house. The scene settled into something akin to a dream, and though Kat was still conscious of Lekko’s presence, the two worlds were beginning to merge in a way they hadn’t done since she’d met Ava and Ruka and adopted them as a strange kind of family.

Kat smiled to herself. In the back of her head, she knew it was all a figment of her imagination, but it was still comforting. Her grandmother, the laugh lines etched around her eyes, looked down at her from behind a puff of hash smoke and smiled back.

It felt good to be home.

* * *

The workshop floor needed sweeping again. Rei had done her best with it the day before, but after the brush had spread the smuts and dust even further across the floorboards, she’d been forced to admit that cleaning wasn’t her strong point. The smith had come to the same conclusion, and had, somewhat tersely, asked Rei to leave the sweeping-brush by the door and carry some boxes instead.

“That’s a thing your lot can do, isn’t it?” she said, hammering a nail that was sticking up. “Heavy loads?”

Rei had known what she was getting into, settling down in a town filled with Okranites. But ever since World’s End, the various jibes and backhanded compliments had begun to feel a lot more hostile. “Yeah. I’m stronger than I look.”

“You’d better be. All these boxes here are going to Moll.”

The Flotsam headquarters were on the far side of the village from the smithy. Rei guessed that the crate – which was oblong and exceptionally heavy – contained weapons for their armoury. Sky had been spending a lot of time with the forge recently, and had draped dust sheets over her sewing bench to protect it from the smuts. As multi-talented a craftswoman as she was, she’d mostly handed armour-making duties over to her young apprentice, who was currently in the process of re-stocking the fabric supplies.

“Sure you can manage that?” Sky said, a little snidely. “Try not to drop it.”

If Rei could have left with her nose in the air, she would have done. But the box obscured sight of her feet, and it was slippery enough that it took a concerted effort not to drop it on her toes. She trod carefully to make sure there was nothing on the floor she could trip over, and very gingerly descended the steps from Sky’s workshop.

She’d been free two and a half months, but still she felt anything but recovered. She had not regained half the muscle she’d lost, and although day upon day spent chipping stone had given her a certain wiry strength that had not faded away, she still felt scrawny. The small portions served to her at Flotsam weren’t helping, and there had been plenty of barbed comments from the villagers about how greedy Shek were. Rei hated that. It wasn’t that they were greedy, but they needed to eat more to stay healthy, and the flatskin presumption that everyone needed the exact same amount of food was not something she could pick a fight about and win.

“Sky got you carrying stuff again?”

Rei nearly dropped the crate on her feet. “How many times do I have to say—”

“Don’t sneak up.” Jared nodded. “We know, and I’m sorry. I thought you’d seen us.”

“I can’t see anything with this fucking box in front of me.” Rei wanted to put it down, but the muddy ground was enough to make her think twice. “There’s a bunch more back there she wants me to bring over to the headquarters. Dunno why I’m doing this for someone who doesn’t even like Shek.”

Spade snorted. “If we refused to help anyone who called us darkened beasts…”

“… or Narko’s devil children…” Jared added.

“… we’d never get anything done. You want some help with that, by the way? Swing it round, give me the other end. Makes it a bit less of a hassle if two of us carry it, right?”

Grateful for the offer, Rei helped Spade with the crate, and the pair of them set off towards the headquarters at a significantly faster pace than before. Still, Rei could tell Spade was having trouble carrying it, and her face was creased with more than just exertion.

“I can take it if you’re struggling,” she offered.

“I’m _fine_.”

They lugged the crate up the steps – Spade came close to dropping her end of the box as it tilted – and into the Flotsam headquarters. Moll had evidently been waiting for its arrival, because she nodded at the corner. “Set the box down over there.”

Glad to be free of the burden at last, they dumped the crate next to a towering pile of other boxes. Rei straightened up, stretching out the screaming muscles in her back and shoulders. Spade clutched her bandaged hand against her chest with a grimace.

“You sure you’re OK, Spade?” Rei asked.

Spade shrugged. “Wanted to be useful.”

Moll prised open the crate and inspected the contents. “Some excellent craftsmanship here. Give Sky my thanks.”

“Hmm,” said a voice from behind them. “It’s not just good swords we need, it’s training and numbers as well.”

Rei’s heart sank. Yayoi was standing in the doorway, leaning against the jamb with folded arms. She did not look impressed to see them. Spade shifted almost imperceptibly to the left, so that she and Rei were touching shoulders. Rei did her best to assume an expression of stoicism, but her palms were sweating.

“After all,” Yayoi continued, “if this lot have brought trouble to our doorstep—”

“We haven’t! The scouts said whoever they sent to World’s End, they’ve gone back to the desert, they haven’t come here…”

“And what if they’re planning on returning?” Yayoi demanded. “What if they took captives who knew about Flotsam? What if they’re coming back with another army?”

Spade paled, but Rei stood her ground. “I doubt they’re gonna lay waste to everything west of the desert, just because they want to find us. I know what your real problem is, Yayoi, so—”

“What, that you’ve already put one town in danger and now you’ve fled to ours?”

“Oh, come on! You wouldn’t care so much if we were Okranites.”

Yayoi blinked. For a brief moment, her anger flickered. “What?”

“We’re all a bunch of unbelievers, right? Imperials and drifters and… and darkened beasts. If you think that doesn’t have something to do with the way we’ve been treated, the way everyone in this village fucking _hates_ us…”

“Whatever the villagers think has no bearing on what _I_ think,” Yayoi interrupted, her nostrils flaring. “I’m no Okran-worshipper – I have Shek Ninjas under my command. They’re among my strongest and most loyal fighters. And the safety of our villagers is what _I_ concern myself with. So, I don’t care if you’re a Shek or an Okranite. What I _do_ care about is whether the United Cities are done chasing you, and the damage you’ve already done. We had good relations with World’s End. We had a trading-point. Now we’ve been left to fend entirely for ourselves, and that’s all thanks to you and your friends.”

“So what would you have done, if you were me?” Rei took a step forward, but Spade grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “If _you_ were a Shek with a bunch of escaped slaves. Where would _you_ have fled to?”

“Rei,” Moll said firmly. “Thank you for delivering the weapons. I appreciate it. Now, I believe Yayoi has come here to speak to me.”

“I want her to answer my question,” Rei said, but Spade was already hustling her out of the door. Yayoi stepped aside just enough to allow them to pass through in single file, though she scowled when Rei accidentally bumped into her.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so defensive,” she called after them as they left. “You might get along a little better with our villagers.”

“Ohhh,” Rei seethed. “I _hate_ her. Fucking flatskin, she treated it like it was all our fault they don’t like us.”

Jared was waiting for them outside. Rei didn’t need to see his expression to know he’d heard everything. “You know,” he said, “it’s probably not a great idea to pick fights with someone so close to Moll.”

“I wasn’t picking a fight,” Rei said sullenly. “ _She_ picked the fight.”

“Probably not a great idea to continue fights, either. Better to back down.”

“Since when have Shek backed down from fights?”

“There’s no need to live up to a stereotype.”

Rei scowled and yanked her arm out of Spade’s grip. “Speak for yourself. Just because _you_ don’t act like a Shek, doesn’t mean _I_ don’t either.”

Jared bristled. “If that’s how you feel, maybe you should go and find some _real_ Shek to be friends with.”

“Maybe I will!”

He just shook his head. “I take it you’re not bringing the rest of the boxes?”

“If Yayoi says one more thing to me, I’ll punch her.”

“Right. In that case, I’ll let you get on with doing whatever _real_ Shek do. Don’t worry, we got this – not that you were worrying.” He walked off, heading in the direction of the smithy. Spade sighed and followed suit.

“Fine,” Rei muttered, more to herself than to the two figures who were now well out of earshot, “side with the villagers, see if I care…”

She stormed back to the refuge, slamming the door hard enough that the hinges rattled. It wasn’t as if there was anyone about to care, anyway – everyone had decided to avoid each other as of late, and the refuge was the obvious meeting-point. It was only when she moved over to the sleeping-area that she noticed she was not alone; Lekko was sitting in Rei’s space with her back to the wall and a large pile of blankets heaped over her lap.

“Was it really necessary to take your frustrations out on the door?”

“I’m allowed to be frustrated,” Rei shot back.

“But it’s not your house, is it?”

Rei ignored her and started to pace. “I’ve spent the last what, two weeks? Two weeks, lugging stuff from place to place like a garru to help out the village while people shout things at me. I’ve been called _beast_. _Darkened._ _Demon._ Someone even told me I belonged in shackles. Trying to ignore all that, making all these apologies for… I don’t even know what I’m apologising for anymore. It doesn’t matter how much I try, all my efforts get thrown back in my face, and now Jared’s joined in, accusing me of acting like a stereotype because I’m sick of being slighted and called names, and Yayoi’s a fucking bitch and Moll didn’t even say anything in my defence and…” She drew in a deep breath. “Yeah, it’s not my door or my house or my village and I think the people here have made that abundantly clear to me, don’t you?”

“Rei.” Lekko raised a hand. “I don’t like this place either, but there’s no need to shout. You’ll wake her up.”

“Wake…” Rei trailed off. She hadn’t noticed the pile of blankets was a person. “Kat? Is she OK?”

“None of us are OK.” Kat stirred a little but did not wake. Lekko gently readjusted the blanket. “You know, I don’t think I’ve seen her sleep this peacefully before. She must really be exhausted.”

If slamming the door hadn’t been enough to rouse her, she had to be. Rei sat down next to Kat, noting the way she’d curled into herself with her head on Lekko’s knee. The fingers of her left hand gripped the blanket like she was terrified of losing it. Rei saw she’d bitten her fingernails down to little pink slivers, with dried blood on the exposed nail beds. They had to hurt.

“She doesn’t sleep well?” she said.

“Well, no, not with the nightmares.”

Lekko’s words, lined with a slight frostiness, seemed to pull all the heat out of the room. Rei suddenly wished she had stayed outside to carry the boxes. “I didn’t know,” she said softly. “Should have recognised the signs.”

“She needs you, Rei.”

Rei stared at Kat’s sleeping face. “She needs someone better than me. Pia, or somebody.”

“Pia’s a very sweet girl, but she isn’t _you_ , is she?”

A sweet girl, or an angry, bitter one. Rei knew which one she’d rather spend time with.

“And you need her too. You’ve been through too much together to throw away that friendship.”

“She hates me, Lekko. I heard what she said.”

“You know, the pair of you are so convinced the other doesn’t like you, you’ve blinded yourselves to what’s obvious to the rest of us. She really cares about you… don’t give me that look. She went to great lengths to make sure you were safe, and right now we’d all be dead or in Tengu’s Vault if it hadn’t been for that note she’d sent.” Lekko ran a hand through Kat’s hair. It smoothed briefly, then stood on end again. It wasn’t long enough to lie flat yet. “I’m not sure a few bad days is enough for her to dislike you.”

“Yeah.” Rei hesitated. “We’ve never gotten along properly, have we? Me and you. We tried for a while, but it never really happened.”

“You’re not wrong there. The pair of us are bad at peopling,” Lekko admitted.

“And I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what, Rei?”

It occurred to Rei that she had rather a lot to apologise for. “What I said last week. I wasn’t thinking and that’s not an excuse but it was still a horrible thing that I said.”

To her relief, Lekko did not snap back at her, though her eyes were sad. “I don’t think anyone’s saying nice things at the moment. Poor Pia. She opened her house to us, and now she has to deal with our bullshit.”

Rei had barely seen Pia at all; she went to bed after everyone else had gone to sleep and rose early before anyone awoke. All her waking moments were spent outside of the refuge. If Rei felt like an unwelcome stranger in the village, Pia was probably being made to feel like one in her own home. “If only we weren’t so…”

“Tired?”

 _Fucked up_ , Rei had wanted to say. But maybe Lekko was right too. “Yeah. I guess.”

“Maybe we just need a chance to recover.”

Lekko’s shoulders were slumped. She fiddled with her hat, which was propped against the wall on the other side of Kat. Rei could see that her hair was growing back, albeit unevenly. Wispy dark hair, patchy and lifeless from malnutrition, flecked her scalp. Dry sores patterned the skin around her lips, and she looked a little paler than Rei was used to seeing her. “I think you can see why I objected to us leaving Flotsam.”

Rei couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed the signs up until now. Of course Lekko and the others were still starving. Rei and Kat had had six weeks to recover between escaping the stone camp and going back to liberate it. The former slaves had been given almost norecovery time before Rei had swept them through Bast and up to World’s End. It had been luck any of them had survived the cannibal assault – pure luck, and numbers. To suggest dragging them out of the safety of Flotsam and through the lands of a people that had hurt Kat had been a terrible, selfish move on Rei’s part. “It’s just as well you did.”

“I hope I haven’t made you feel like I don’t care about your friends. They’re our allies, too. You all fought our corner, when no-one else would.” Lekko went back to stroking Kat’s hair. “Even if that wasn’t your main intention.”

Rei turned her face away from the sudden shrewdness. “Me and Kat, we came from the same place as you did,” she told the floorboards. “It wasn’t just about Haga.”

“I know. And, no matter what your primary motive may have been in all this, the fact remains that we’re free. You know, when the Guild sold me to the camp, I thought that was it, that was the place I would die. The day after I arrived, a man collapsed on the stone heap right in front of me. Slaver bastards said it was his heart given out. Maybe it was, or…” There was a little pause, and Rei could tell that Lekko had just shrugged. “Maybe it was his soul.”

“Maybe.”

“You get used to seeing it after a while. When someone loses hope that much and the light fades, and you’re powerless to save them. Still an awful thing.”

“I’m sorry. If you ever need to talk…”

Lekko nearly smiled; when Rei looked up, she saw the corner of her lip twitching. “You’re not a talking person.”

“No, not really.”

“Me neither. But if you want to help someone, do me a favour. Help Kat. Help keep her hope alive. Don’t let her soul slip away and be lost to you.”

“I’ll try.” But trying and succeeding clearly wasn’t Rei’s strong point. “I promise.”

“And Rei? Like I said, you fought our corner. We’ll fight yours. Just… don’t be scared to ask for help. You _will_ ask if you need it, won’t you?”

She’d asked once already, and she’d known she was asking the impossible. “Yeah,” she lied.

“Good.” Lekko’s half-smile became a real smile. “I know this isn’t a great situation, but if the two of us make an effort, we’ll get ourselves and everyone else through it.”

 _You know she wouldn’t sound so relieved if she knew the trut_ _h. That she’s_ _relying on_ _a girl who’s crazier than_ _a broken Skeleton,_ _to stop everyone else from going crazy. Do you even remember what sanity used to feel like?_ Haga’s syrupy words turned into daggers made of snakes and shadows. _Why are you resisting me? Don’t you_ know _you’re crazy, crazy girl?_ _I can prove it to you. Look_ _at me_ _and I’ll prove it._

Rei didn’t want to look, but she was sure the shadows at the corner of the room stirred.

 _Stay away from me,_ she told him. _You’re dead, you don’t hold power over me._

 _Keep telling yourself that, crazy girl. It’ll only make it easier to hurt you._ The rotting lavender stench she’d come to associate with Haga receded, but Rei knew he was still there. He was trying to trick her, to startle her with a sudden movement…

 _Not real,_ said a part of her brain that was growing tired and weak from all the evidence to the contrary. _Not real._

“Rei? Are you OK?”

She laid her trembling hands in her lap, drawing her knees up to hide them. “I’m fine,” she said with forced brightness.

Another lie.

And from the way Lekko’s face dropped, Rei knew she no longer believed her.


	5. Summit

Marisa sat in front of the mirror, fussing over her reflection in a vain attempt to make herself look presentable. The hour she’d already spent worrying about her appearance had not helped matters. The longer she stared at herself, the shabbier she felt. When it came time to stand among the well-groomed guards of the other nobles, she knew she’d stand out like a gutter in a wolf den. And wolves could be vicious.

She turned the mirror from side to side, trying to catch an angle that would reveal something else dissatisfying, and realised she still hadn’t managed to get all the dust out of her hair. There was still some clinging to the roots, like dandruff, but she’d washed it once already and the ends were already beginning to split. What her hair really needed was a trim, but with no-one to help her and only a few hours to go until the assembly, she would have to leave it.

Very deliberately, Marisa set the hand-mirror face down on the bed. _No more fretting_ , she told herself. _I’ll be wearing the hood over my hair, and if they don’t like my face, there’s not a lot I can do about that._

But her clothing was still a concern. The dress code for the guards was obvious – uniform had to be worn – but Marisa’s uniform had seen better days. She had kept the same breastplate Lady Sanda had first given her, and it had a dent in the back. Her samurai trousers were newer and shinier, but that was because her old ones had been utterly un-salvageable after her leg had been crushed. Her dull, scuffed plated boot and her slightly less scuffed metal leglooked utterly mismatched, but there was no fixing it; even if she had another boot, she had no real left foot to speak of. Once again, resentment settled on her tongue, and this time the sourness did not fade away.

Her leg was working again. Not well, but it worked. Marisa’s repair – if she could have called slamming the leg repeatedly against the side of her bed a repair – might have been a little unorthodox, and a robotics expert would have paled, but at least it was no longer jammed. Lady Sanda had seen Marisa was walking better, but had not said anything. She hadn’t said anything to Marisa since the events of a few nights ago. _Maybe she’s forgotten._ But Lady Sanda was not one to forget, and especially not when she’d been humiliated in front of other nobles. There would be retribution.

It was almost evening. The late afternoon sun caught the high windows at a low angle, setting the ceiling ablaze with golden light. As the room grew dark around her, Marisa began to panic. She switched on the nearest torch-post and rubbed frantically at her armour with a damp cloth, hoping the makeshift polish would add a little shine to her breastplate. The metal stayed resolutely dull even when she found a tub of real polish, and no amount of muted swearing or too-bright electric lighting could bring any lustre to her armour. Marisa wished she had taken better care of it when it was new.

She wasn’t sure where the other guards were; with Lady Sanda, perhaps, but she didn’t know where Lady Sanda was, either. It felt vulnerable, being apart from her lady, sitting on a strange bed in a strange room in a strange house. The accommodation may have been nice – Tengu had spared no expense in ensuring all the nobles were properly looked after – but it was too uncannily similar to the noble-house in Bark, both in terms of structure and furnishings, and Marisa hated the feeling of the alien walls pressing in around her.

If she was honest with herself, she was probably going a little stir-crazy. It had been four days now, and she’d seen nothing of Heft. Lady Sanda had gone out for leisurely walks around the town, escorted by the rest of her retinue, and Marisa had been left to keep an eye on the slaves. There wasn’t even any need for her to stay put; Tengu had assigned his own guards to the noble-house, and besides, the slaves wouldn’t get far in chains. Marisa glared at the new girl. She’d been spending far too much time sweeping the guards’ section of the room, and her loitering was beginning to look suspicious. She’d probably been watching Marisa out of the corner of her eye as she was getting ready.

“Don’t you even know how to clean a room?” Marisa snapped, all too aware of how unimposing she’d become. “Look at all this dust. Lady Sanda won’t keep you around for long when you’re this inefficient.”

The girl did not reply. She sized Marisa up for a second, then let go of the broom handle. It clattered on the floor, rolling away and coming to a stop against the foot of Marisa’s bed. Marisa blinked, sure it had been an accident, but there was no apology, or a mad scramble to retrieve the sweeping-brush. Just a stony-faced silence that was far more imposing than anything Marisa could muster.

“Pick that up.” If Lady Sanda had been here, she would have had the girl flogged. Marisa wished she was wearing her leg, so she could at least lunge forward and make sure the insolence didn’t go completely unpunished. “ _Now_.”

Still no reaction. Clawing at her sliding grasp on authority, Marisa resorted to her last option. “You know I can tell Lady Sanda that you’re a weak, lazy little shit who openly defies orders. Do you know what’ll happen to you then? Do you know what happened to your predecessor?”

The girl’s eyes widened. Whatever courage she’d possessed in that moment visibly withered away, and she picked up the sweeping-brush. But Marisa sensed a change in dynamic had occurred. _I’ve shown myself as a soft target._ “Work faster! If this place isn’t spotless by the time Lady Sanda returns, I’ll see to it myself that you get fed to the skimmers.”

To her relief, the girl picked up her pace, and Marisa sat back with a vaguely uneasy sense of satisfaction. She wasn’t sure exactly why she felt that unease, and tried to tell herself it was just nerves leading up to the summit. But she still took a swig of painkiller from the bottle, and tried to sink into the resulting cloud that filled the corners of her mind. If only she didn’t need to be alert for tonight, then she could have taken more…

She wasn’t even aware that she’d dozed off until she awoke to find herself half-sprawled across the bed, her mouth as dry and fuzzy as her head. As she sat up, a blanket slid off her shoulder. She didn’t remember having unrolled the blanket from the end of her mattress.

_Lady Sanda…_

For a second, fresh panic forced entry into Marisa’s hazy mind. If Lady Sanda had caught her taking a nap… She rubbed her ear and listened hard, but the house was just as echoingly silent as before. Lady Sanda wasn’t back yet.

_Unless I missed the summit, and she let me sleep through it._

Marisa stared up at the windows. The shadows were even longer now, and the golden light had turned almost red. She stood up, forgot she wasn’t wearing the leg, and faceplanted the floor. As she lay there, her palms stinging with tiny splinters and pain spreading through her sinuses like a blossoming flower, a shadow fell over her.

In the month and a half that had elapsed since losing her leg, Marisa had had a number of humiliating moments. This particular moment was only second to being tied and gagged with medical supplies, and dumped unceremoniously behind a screen as Ava made off into the night. It was a close second. She gritted her teeth and pushed herself up onto her hands and pinched her nose to stop the blood from fountaining all over the nearby rug. The slave girl, who’d evidently witnessed the whole thing, crouched down beside her and offered a torn piece of rag.

“Thanks,” Marisa said grudgingly.

The girl nodded and straightened up. Marisa watched her step away, and for a moment thought she was about to be left to shoulder her humiliation in peace. But then the girl came back, carrying something in her hands, and set it down in front of Marisa. The leg. Marisa grabbed it, swung herself around so she was sitting up and reattached it to the stump. Still the girl lingered, as if she was expecting thanks. Marisa wasn’t about to give it to her.

“Is Lady Sanda here?” she demanded.

The girl shook her head.

“Did she come back yet?”

Another no.

“So they haven’t all gone out to the summit.”

The girl shook her head a third time.

“You don’t talk much, do you?”

The girl looked at Marisa with an expression that Marisa read as surprised. Marisa guessed she was probably afraid of Lady Sanda. “Well, whatever. Suits me just fine. If she’s not back, I’ve got time to get ready.” She dabbed the nosebleed with the rag the slave had given her. It was a particularly grimy piece of rag, and she was glad her sense of smell had gone. “You can leave, you know,” she told the girl.

She took the hint. When she’d gone, Marisa pulled herself awkwardly up from the floor, still holding the wad of cloth to her nostrils. Some of the blood from her sinuses had run down into her throat. It was thick and warm and tasted vaguely of rust. Marisa waited until the flow had stemmed itself, then picked up the mirror and checked to make sure nothing in her face had been put out of line. Her concern surprised her a little; after all,she’d never shed tears over black eyes or swollen lips or wounds to the face that were guaranteed to scar. At least, she thought, that sense of relief was enough to distract her from fretting about theminor things, such as not looking the part.

It was only when Lady Sanda had returned from her excursion and Marisa was assembled downstairs with the other, better-dressed guards that the doubts began to plague her again. Lady Sanda evidently had the same doubts, because her lip curled when she looked Marisa up and down.

“If the emperor didn’t want to meet you…”

Marisa’s stomach gave a great jolt. “He wants to meet me?”

“Of course. Why do you think you’re coming to the palace? He wants to meet the woman who captured two wanted criminals.” Lady Sanda’s voice became a hiss, forcing its way between her front teeth. Her lips barely moved at all. “I suggest you don’t mention that you had as much help as you did. Understood?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“How is your leg?”

Marisa’s head was still full of fog, and she blinked, sure she’d misheard. It took a confused second to realise Lady Sanda had not developed a sudden concern for her well-being, but was instead enquiring as to how much of an embarrassment she was going to be. “It’s better, my lady. It hasn’t jammed in a while.”

“Good. Let’s move, and try not to draw any more attention to yourself.”

Marisa was glad that it was cooling off outside. She assumed a haughty expression that didn’t quite hide the shame in her cheeks, and walked with Lady Sanda across the strangely pale sand. The city was almost entirely silent, and there were samurai everywhere. As they walked to the palace they had an unofficial escort from the imperial guards, who flanked them at a subtle distance. Marisa suspected there were more that she couldn’t see, just waiting to leap into action at the first sign of trouble. It begged the question of whether there was any point at all to Lady Sanda’s retinue.

Marisa had heard many things about Tengu’s palace, the Throne, the beating heart of the empire. She’d heard that it had once seated the great dictator Cat-Lon, many centuries ago. She’d heard that it had once been as tall as a mountain, only for its extensive foundation to have been swallowed by the sands. She’d heard that the previous emperor, Emperor Anzai, had dug right down into those foundations to create a series of secret rooms, and that he’d discovered a sleeping leviathan far below the surface. The addition of the leviathan had been what finally convinced Marisa that her fellow guards had been talking complete bullshit.

Even if the rumours were utterly fabricated, the palace was still impressive. It was a huge, circular building, of almost identical structural style to Tengu’s Vault. It was certainly ancient. As they approached the entrance to the palace the sweet scent of lavender carried on the breeze, along with the soft twinges of some stringed instrument. _Music._ Marisa could not remember the last time she had heard proper music. There had been that bard who’d sung for Lady Sanda, but his voice had been as reedy as a bugman’s, and he’d ended up in the sea. He hadn’t been able to swim any more than sing.

“Stay in formation,” Lady Sanda snapped as they went in.

Marisa wasn’t sure if it was the medication, or if Tengu’s palace was really this colourful. Carpets of red and blue and gold, woven with intricate designs, covered cold tiles. The gilded partitions glittered in the softly illuminations of the floor lamps. When Marisa looked up, she saw a canopy of silks, high above her head, a beautiful sky blue with twinkling beads and sequins. They had entered some kind of reception area, bounded by screens and silk veils, where slaves carried delicacies on little silver trays, and people wearing fine clothes lazed on plush floor-cushions with fat hashish joints. Smoke wafted across the room, adding to Marisa’s general wooziness. She shut her mouth, which had dropped open in a particularly unflattering fashion, and tried not to breathe in too deeply.

“Lady Sanda!” A man pushed through one of the veils, hurrying forward to greet them. He stopped short of Lady Sanda and bowed. “An honour to see you, as always.”

“Diplomat Koin.” Lady Sanda looked him up and down. “I see Tengu has you running around greeting guests. A pity that he couldn’t find time to greet his oldest friend.”

Koin’s smile became suddenly apologetic. “My lady, I do—”

“No matter, I am sure I shall speak with him soon enough. By the way, Koin, this is Marisa. She’s the guard the emperor wishes to see.”

“ _Oh_.” Koin did a double-take. Marisa fought to keep her face neutral. “Well… that’s excellent. Splendid, in fact. I will be sure to acquaint them.” To Marisa he said, “Diplomat Koin at your service. I am the emperor’s spokesman.”

Was he expecting a bow, a handshake, a salute? Marisa decided to play it safe with a bow. Koin inclined his head in return, looking satisfied. “I hope you enjoy your time here in the palace. Please, make yourselves comfortable. The council shall begin in an hour.”

“An _hour_ ,” muttered Lady Sanda as Koin disappeared behind another curtain. “What a ridiculous length of time to be kept waiting without so much as a word from the emperor… oh, Emi, how _lovely_ to see you!”

Marisa didn’t know quite where to stand. The nobles were all fluttering about like butterflies draped in silk, and she froze, suddenly terrified of bumping someone or stepping on the hem of their robe. She ended up retreating to the side of the room and standing with her back against one of the curtains, watching the proceedings. There were so many _people_ , and so finely-dressed, too. Shek ladies with gilded horns giggled from behind clouds of hashish smoke, Scorchlander lords downed bloodrum from leviathan-pearl cups, and a Greenlander wearing a star-shaped hat was standing against a wall with an oddly satisfied look on his face. Marisa’s gaze drifted downwards to the kneeling shape at his feet, and looked away, blushing furiously.

“Such debauchery,” drawled a male voice right next to her ear. “If only the commoners knew just how many important decisions are made straight after events like these, when people are still high on drugs and alcohol and a little carnal pleasure.”

Marisa gasped, and her leg nearly gave out as she span around in surprise. But there was no-one behind her except a softly drifting curtain that rippled and sighed with the warm evening breeze coming through from outside. She lifted a hand to push the veil away.

“Oh,” the voice continued, “don’t spoil the fun. There’s no harm in a little mystique, is there?”

Marisa let her hand fall. “I don’t know who you are.”

“Yes, that _is_ rather the point of things.” There was a sigh. “I always find it fascinating, the candidness that anonymity can bring. It’s rather an interesting game. Won’t you play it with me?”

“But my lady will—”

“Shh, I don’t want specifics. I don’t want to know who or what you are. What I want to know is, how do you like this little gathering? Do you find it elegant and charming with incredible networking opportunities, or overly ostentatious and a garish display of all that is wrong with the United Cities? A little bit of both? Tell me how you feel.”

“If you would ask that question of someone you’ve only just met,” Marisa said carefully, “perhaps you should be first to answer.”

“Cautious. And very sensible. I like it. My answer is that an explorer can find great treasures in new territory, if only he is willing to brave the perils.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Think on it a little. And now for _your_ answer.”

“I…” Marisa floundered for a second; the strange riddle of a non-response had left her no clues as to how to respond. “This is very different from what I’m used to.”

“A new experience for you, then?”

“The people here. I’ve never seen so many nobles…” She stopped as a sudden thought occurred to her. What if she was _speaking_ to a noble? “I’m not sure I’m supposed to be talking to anyone.”

“There are a lot of _supposed tos_ in this world. For starters, hashish is terribly illegal here. But if we all did as we were _supposed_ to, this party wouldn’t be nearly so entertaining. So let’s continue with our little game. Tell me, if you could assume the role of another, if only for a little while, who in the room would you pick? I can’t see, so I’ll require descriptions.”

Lady Sanda was still talking to Lady Emika. Their movements were like a dance between two birds in contested territory. Marisa watched for a moment and said, “The Shek lady with the gilded horns and the red-and-gold robes. She’s speaking with Lady Em – I mean – the Greenlander lady with the dark hair and the beautiful eyes.”

He sounded amused. “I’ve never heard anyone describe Lady Emika’s eyes as beautiful before.”

Marisa wished she could tear herself away from the stranger on the other side of the curtain. This was dangerous talk, as dangerous as the nobles that drank and laughed and blew hash smoke into the lavender-scented air. “I suppose you have now.”

“Quite. And why Lady Sanda?”

“I don’t think this is fair,” Marisa said with forced lightness. “You’ve asked me four questions, and I haven’t asked you any.”

“Then what is your question for me?”

“With whom do your loyalties lie?”

There was a little pause as he processed it. He clearly hadn’t been expecting her to ask that. Finally he replied, “A grain of sand in a desert must surround itself with other, larger grains of sand, and trust in those grains of sand to keep it on the surface. But when the wind blows, who can blame that small, weak grain for scattering?”

Once again Marisa began to feel lost. “Must everything you say be so coded?”

“My dear stranger, let me tell you something about the capital. Many games are played here, just like the one we amused ourselves with this evening. You have done well. But to truly master the game, you must lose your small-town naivety and become a weaver.”

“I thought you said we were going to be candid.”

A little sigh, like the breeze. “Are codes and candidness so mutually exclusive? There were no untruths in my answers. Simply delve a little deeper into my webs, and you will find the answers you were searching for.”

“I don’t have time for weaving,” Marisa said, but there was no response. When several minutes of silence had passed, she pushed the curtain back and very cautiously peered around the side. There was nobody there; just a narrow, empty space with another curtain behind it. She dared not look past that one. So she pulled her head free of the veil and, wrinkling her brow, decided to find another part of the room to wait in.

Spending an hour in the imperial palace might have been a long time to Lady Sanda, but for Marisa, it was as if almost no time had passed between Koin’s greeting and his eventual reappearance. By this point the gathering had become boisterous enough to completely drown out the lute-player, who’d been soldiering on and desperately trying to sing above the noise. Marisa was fully expecting the nobles to ignore the harried-looking diplomat as he stepped into the centre of the room, but to her surprise, they shut up almost at once. The lute-player immediately launched into a softly-strung rendition of the imperial anthem, with rather a lot of personal embellishments.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Koin announced, clasping his hands like a man in prayer. “If you would all follow me, the council is about to begin.”

There was still no sign of the emperor, unless he’d slipped into the room without a fanfare. Marisa doubted it, but having never met Tengu, she couldn’t be sure. It was only when she rejoined Lady Sanda and heard her mistress’s muted grumbling that her assumption was confirmed. “A gathering hosted in his own palace, and he won’t even deign to greet his oldest and closest friends who’ve come from far and wide at his command. How utterly typical of the man…”

They all followed Koin as he led them through the palace. Slaves, tasked with holding back the veils and curtains, bowed deeply as they passed. Marisa tried not to stare too hard at anyone else, or catch her Skeleton limb on any ridges on the carpets. It was a difficult task, with people pushing and jostling her, and once or twice she accidentally caught a noble’s eye. One winked at her, but the others fixed her with such venomous looks that she was struck with a sudden appreciation for being alive, and a strong desire to keep herself that way. She was so focused on keeping her head down and not incurring anyone else’s wrath that she barely noticed they were descending a ramp. It was only when they all came to a stop, surrounded by dim lights and dark walls, that a belated thought occurred to her.

 _Before, w_ _e were on the lowest floor of the palace… this must be the foundation._ Suddenly the concept of a sleeping leviathan didn’t seem quite so far-fetched after all. Marisa cast her eyes around the room in search of another ramp that might suggest a level below this one, but was almost immediately distracted by the huge circular table in the centre of the room. It was almost as big as the waiting area she’d spent the last hour in, and made of carved wood and gold leaf. The gold was almost liquid in the dancing light from the torch-posts, sparkling like the surface of the sea on a sunny day. She longed to touch it, to run her hands along it and feel the exquisite craftsmanship for herself, but instinct kept her firmly rooted.

“Please be seated,” said a voice from the far curve of the table. It was not Koin’s voice.

Marisa gulped. If she’d felt small in the presence of the nobility, she felt even smaller in the presence of the emperor. She made to stand beside Lady Sanda as she took her seat, but Lady Sanda shook her head impatiently and gestured to the chair beside her.

“The other guards will stand. Not you.”

Marisa sat. People were watching her with curiosity, and when she risked a glance at the emperor, she realised he was doing the same. At least, she thought he was; it was difficult to tell behind those shaded spectacles of his. He caught her looking, and his teeth flashed a smile as he chewed on something. It was difficult for Marisa to shake off the sudden instinct to run. This, she thought, had to be how roamers felt when a gutter had them in its sights.

Tengu finished chewing whatever he was chewing. A slave hurried forward with a bowl and there was a little _tink_ as he spat something into it. A greenfruit stone, maybe. The sound echoed off the stone walls, and Marisa could have sworn she saw the torches flicker.

“Good evening,” he said.

There was no response from the assembled nobles, but Tengu had evidently been anticipating that. He settled in his chair, unrolled a scroll that had been sitting in front of him, and began to read from it. “Honoured guests, it is my pleasure and my privilege to welcome you to another year’s council of… blah, blah, blah, something about safe journeys, a congratulations to Lord Shiro on his upcoming wedding, taxes, taxes, taxes, _blah_. Koin needs a pay rise, if he’s churning this dross out for my speeches.” He threw the scroll over his shoulder. “Now the niceties are over, we can get on with what we’re _actually_ here to do.”

There was a satisfied buzz from the nobles, though the bespectacled Shek nobleman seated opposite Marisa was scowling. Presumably, this was Lord Shiro. Marisa knew from her childhood lessons in the training barracks that he was the lord of Catun, and had risen to power following the murder of Lord Kurusaga. She sneaked a glance to his left and right, wondering if his betrothed was sitting next to him, but Lord Ohta was on one side, and a Greenlander woman at least twice his age was on the other. _Perhaps she wasn’t quite important enough to be invited._

“You may have noticed,” Tengu continued, “that we have a commoner at our table tonight.”

The more sober of the nobles had _definitely_ noticed, but heads turned nonetheless. Marisa’s chair suddenly felt very hard even through its padding and cushions. She put her sweating hands in her lap and did her best not to fidget.

“Lady Sanda, would you care to explain her presence?”

“Certainly, Emperor. She is a hand-picked member of my noble guard who was responsible for the capture and detention of two terrorists involved in the brutal murder of Slave Master Haga.”

The nobles started to murmur amongst themselves. Marisa caught one or two looking at her with fresh respect. Clearly, Haga’s murder had been just as shocking to them as it had been to Lady Sanda.

“Marisa, is it?” Tengu said.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak without blathering.

“Well, Marisa, you have done the United Cities a great service. Thanks to your help, we have been able to send out a clear message to all who oppose us. The people of World’s End made themselves our enemy when they harboured terrorists, and both they and their town are no more.”

“Emperor Tengu, if I may?” a woman ventured. “You speak of World’s End… is this the Tech Hunter village in the mountains? The home of the University of Machinists?”

“The very same. The University lies in ruins along with the rest of the town.” If Tengu had even noticed the woman’s shocked expression, he did not seem to care. “I hear paper burns rather well.”

“But Emperor—”

“Lady Tsugi, perhaps you disagree with my decision.”

“Oh no, Emperor, not at _all_ ,” Lady Tsugi said quickly. “It’s just that, with Brink being so close to Black Scratch… comparatively speaking, at least—”

“And what of it? Do you think the Tech Hunters are a true faction? I can tell you with certainty, Lady Tsugi, you have nothing to fear from a rabble of drunken adventurers. The Tech Hunters have never concerned themselves with politics. Besides, Black Scratch lies surrounded by imperial territory. We collect taxes from them, do we not? If anything, losing one town will ensure their future loyalty, not turn them against us… they’ve had their own share of massacres, after all.”

“With the greatest of respect, Emperor, we in the southernmost territories believed we had nothing to fear from a rabble of poor, malnourished peasants. Until the droughts came.” She glanced at the older woman sitting next to Lord Shiro, who was nodding vigorously. Looking a little more bolstered, Lady Tsugi turned back to Tengu. “The Red Rebellion is proof of just how quickly a disorganised non-faction can rally round and create something very dangerous.”

The Red Rebellion was another thing Marisa had learned about in the barracks. It had, after all, claimed the life of the previous emperor. Though it had happened several years before she was born, it was clearly within living memory of most of the nobles sitting around the table, and she could feel the unease stirring in the room.

“Lady Tsugi, for someone who does not disagree, you are being rather disagreeable.” Tengu’s tone was light, but the warning was there. Lady Tsugi visibly backed down, her head withdrawing into the folds of her large neck. “Would anyone else like to raise feedback on my decision-making?”

No-one spoke. Marisa’s skin prickled under her armour. She wished she had some more of the painkiller with her.

“But, I suppose Lady Tsugi raises something of a point,” Tengu continued. “In the week and a half since the destruction of World’s End, an increased Okranite presence has been reported in the lands around Bast, and the Skimsands east of Okran’s Shield. Clearly, they have viewed our military action in the mountains as something of a challenge. I think it may be time to drive the bonedogs back to their dens, with their stumpy little tails between their legs. Lady Tsugi, I’m sure your very _long_ memory also recalls what the Okranites did to Bast.”

“Destroyed in a single day,” Lady Tsugi replied, as the nobles around her shuddered.

“Bast may have been destroyed in the time of Emperor Anzai,” Tengu said, “but the subsequent generation has not forgotten the violence wreaked against loyal imperial citizens. Whilst our defensive efforts are doing a good enough job at keeping the Okranites away from any of our other cities, I want to keep them out of our established boundaries altogether. The Skimsands belong to us and always have done. Why, then, are our patrols coming up against paladins every other day?”

“Okran’s Shield,” grunted a middle-aged Shek man. “The hard border between the desert and the river-lands is controlled by Okranites. Always has been.”

“Lord Inaba, you oversee Stoat. Wouldn’t you sleep a little easier at night knowing there was more between you and Okranite territory than just sand and skimmers and the Spine Canyon?”

“Well, yes, but I don’t see how that would work. For the last three years we’ve discussed setting up a fortress just west of the Spine Canyon, but with Slave Master Haga dead and the stone camp in ruins, we’d have to bring in building materials along trade routes frequented by rebels.”

“Fortresses,” Lady Sanda said contemptuously. “Would it not be simpler to attack Okran’s Shield? Perhaps my approach is a little blunt, but as a Shek, I’d favour a course of action that’s guaranteed to make those holy fools tremble in their boots.”

“Hear, hear,” Lord Shiro echoed.

Tengu tapped his chin. “Attack Okran’s Shield, you say?”

“Lady Sanda is right,” said a voice from the side of the room. “The Okranites’ greatest weakness is complacency. When things go well for them for a time, it is easy for them to believe that Okran is on their side, serving them. Protecting them.”

Lady Sanda twitched. “Lord Aramid. Skulking in the shadows, I see.”

Marisa twisted in her seat a little to see the man who’d just spoken, but there was no need; Lord Aramid had already crossed the room and seated himself in one of the empty chairs next to the emperor. He was a tall, pale-looking man, with dark hair and a neat little beard, draped in black robes trimmed with silver. Though he was not especially handsome – his nose was too sharp, his eyes too sunken and heavily-lidded – he was still striking in his appearance, and Marisa found herself unable to take her eyes off him. “Take out Okran’s Shield, and you’ve just ripped their door off its hinges.”

“Of _course_ you would know what the Okranites think,” said Lady Sanda. “After all, you’re one of them.”

He smiled. “Lady Sanda, given I have spoken in support of your suggestion, you may prefer to express your doubts once this matter has been discussed.”

Lady Sanda’s face turned blotchy. Marisa edged away from her, very slightly. Lady Sanda had been known to take her anger out on the people next to her when she felt slighted. “I see your support is conditional as always, Lord Aramid.”

“Not at all.” He leaned his elbows on the table, spreading his hands wide. “I have never made any pretences regarding my birth, or my faith. But the culture of my former homeland is not the same as the one I have adopted, and the faith I was raised in does not wholly align with the one I now follow.”

“I’d have said so,” said Lord Ohta. “Most Okranites jump through hoop after hoop of cognitive dissonance to justify their keeping of slaves. You, on the other hand, seem to have kicked that particular theological hurdle aside.”

“I rebirthed souls in the empire, and was paid well for doing it,” Lord Aramid replied calmly. “I believe we were talking about Okran’s Shield, and not my deeds?”

As the discussion continued, Marisa’s eyelids became heavy. The hour was getting later and later. Even though there was no natural light underground, she was sure the sun would be rising soon. When Okran’s Shield seemed to reach its natural conclusion, with most of the nobles declaring themselves in favour of launching an assault, Marisa thought the council might be dismissed, but there was still more on the agenda. Tax hikes, the rebel farmers in the north, the Reavers and Anti-Slavers in the south… and then the conversation was back to World’s End again. Her eyes snapped open at the mention. If someone asked her a question connected to Ava or Ruka, she needed to be alert for it.

“… are you quite sure he’d be willing to help us?”

“Willing? I have him locked away below our feet, under guard. He has nothing to lose and everything to gain by working for us.”

“Didn’t he blind one of the soldiers?”

“That was a mistake he paid for,” Tengu said. “Eyegore saw to it.”

“Hmm,” said Lady Sanda doubtfully. “All the same, I wouldn’t trust a bugman with dangerous chemicals. It’s begging for a repeat incident.”

Marisa nodded along with the other nobles, and tried not to yawn. Finally, just as she thought she might be about to fall asleep at the table, Tengu pushed back his chair. “We’ll reconvene tomorrow evening. Guards! Fetch me some sake.”

Thinking longingly of her bed, Marisa followed the nobles and their respective guards up the ramp to the ground floor of the palace. She could vaguely hear the sounds of a lute being played somewhere – was the musician _still_ playing? The stink of hashish smoke was still heavy in the air, to the extent that she could barely smell the lavender at all. Her head was beginning to ache. All she wanted to do was lie down and sleep until it was time to return to Bark.

“Like I said before, Marisa,” Lord Aramid murmured next to her, “many games are played in the capital. Watch the games, see how they unfold. Then weave your own.”

Marisa’s blood ran cold. She opened her mouth to speak, but Lord Aramid was already gone, his robes swirling as he disappeared behind a distant curtain. _Weaving…_ She had the sudden, nasty suspicion that she’d just been woven into something, but she had no way of knowing what.

“Marisa, are you coming?” Lady Sanda said impatiently, seeing her guard dawdle.

“Sorry, my lady.”

Even though he was gone, she could still sense Lord Aramid’s presence. Marisa shuddered, suddenly wide awake. She had never wanted to go home so badly in her life.


	6. Endings

It had been a cold night. Kat had thought she was used to cold nights, after the many months she’d spent living in the desert, but she always woke up shivering after the fire-dreams. Her injured hand ached, like it had been set on fire and plunged into icy water and then set on fire again. She sat up on the mat, teeth chattering with more than just the cold, and watched as another sleeping figure stirred from their bed.

“Mm… Kat? You ’wake?”

“Yeah,” Kat mumbled, her mouth dry. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“Oh… don’t worry. You didn’t.” Pia swung her legs over the bed, trying to grab her boots with her toes. She had a severe case of bed hair, blonde strands plastered against the side of her face she’d been lying on. Her eyes were hollow and ringed with shadow. “You OK?”

“Yeah,” Kat lied. “Um, listen… Pia…”

Pia, struggling to lace her boots, did not answer.

“I know it’s a bit late, but I’m sorry for all the crap I’ve given you.”

Pia triumphed over the laces, stood up, grabbed her shawl from where it had been draped over the wooden partition. For a moment, Kat thought she was pretending not to have heard. But once she’d pinned the shawl in place, she looked over and shrugged. “I’m going to see Naevia. I guess you can come along, if you want to.”

It was the same temperature outside as it had been in the storm-house, but the chill was more tolerable now Kat was up and about. She huddled into herself with her arms across her chest, wishing she had some warmer clothes. “I know you said you wanted to get out of here.”

“Yeah.” Pia closed the door to the refuge and stared out across the village. The breeze blew her matted hair into her eyes, and she tried to ease out the knots with her fingers. “You saw it too, right? This ain’t a nice place.”

“What do you mean?”

Pia stepped into the mud with a yelp; it had been churned up by all the footfall, and had deepened considerably overnight. There was a squelching sound as she pulled her boots free. “Well, for starters, you’re the only person here that’s ever apologised for giving me crap. And you’re not even from Flotsam. So there’s that.”

“Oh.” Kat winced as her own ankles disappeared into the freezing muck. “I’m sorry, Pia.”

“Moll, Yayoi, Reva… all that lot. None of ’em like me. You know who did?” Her voice wobbled a bit. “The Tech Hunters.”

Kat wished she had a response to that, other than to say she was sorry again. She’d already apologised so many times it felt meaningless. “You felt more at home at World’s End, I’m guessing?”

“They were nice,” Pia said quietly. “Well, Finch wasn’t. Iyo kind of was… he didn’t like me, but he was never mean to me. I used to talk to all the people who came back from expeditions, and listen to their stories. It’s how I met Spade and Jared. They didn’t treat me like I was annoying, or stupid. They didn’t treat me like I was only good for running messages and fetching supplies for the village. And I know he was joking, but Jared always said if I ever wanted to become a Tech Hunter he’d convince the captain to let me join their squad. Naevia wouldn’t even let me hold a sword.”

They sloshed through the mud to the gates. Reva wasn’t there this morning, but Daria was, and she stepped into their path to halt them. “If you two go wandering into the Forest and get yourselves captured by cannibals, Moll will put my head on a pole.”

“We aren’t _wandering_ ,” Pia said.

Daria rubbed her hand across her eyes. Kat got the sudden feeling that Reva had told her about the shrine. “If you’re not back in quarter of an hour, I’m sending someone out to look for you.”

“That’s fine.”

The trees stood tall and motionless in the still air, their branches filtering spikes of golden light from the sunrise. The bed of needles scattering the mud made walking a little easier, though the soles of Kat’s feet caught on sharp points. Birdsong sounded from the high branches. It would have been a peaceful scene had it not been for the dangers. Kat listened out for movement, but the only activity seemed to be that of a few small mammals darting through the undergrowth. “Pia?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you still want to come with us?”

There was a little pause. Pia fiddled with the threadbare edge of her scarf. “I guess,” she said. “Anywhere’s better than here.”

“I wouldn’t have said that. At least here is safe…”

Pia shrugged. “Now World’s End is gone, Moll’s only use for me as a messenger is for taking messages up to Mani. And he’s in the Cannibal Plains. There are beak things up there. I’m fast enough to outrun hungry cannibals, but ain’t nobody can outrun a beak thing. Not even a bugman.”

“Oh, right.”

“I never seen a beak thing and I don’t wanna see one either. And… if I _don’t_ get used as a messenger, what’s the point? I ain’t good at anything else, I can’t read, I can’t make stuff, I just ruin the crops when I help out on the farms and people shout at me…” She blinked rapidly. “All I ever wanted was to be useful.”

They came to a stop at Naevia’s shrine. Pia pulled out her prayer beads, looping them around her fingers. “Naevia didn’t think I was useful. She wanted to leave me in Blister Hill, you know. She only took me with her coz I cried when I saw her packing to leave, and she didn’t want our parents finding out she was going so… she took me to keep me quiet.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Kat said carefully, “why did _she_ want to leave?”

“Didn’t wanna get married. And she didn’t like Blister Hill, anyway. Said it was like a prison.”

“I’ve been to Blister Hill. It’s not a nice place.”

“Yeah, I mean, I dunno, I’d probably have stayed there if it hadn’t been for Naevia, I’m not really that brave. Y’know, Naevia said I only learned running so I could run away from stuff. And coz I was too dumb to learn anything useful.”

“That was mean of her,” Kat said, unable to stop herself.

“Maybe, but she was sort of right.”

“I don’t think she was, Pia. If you came with us, I bet someone could teach you something. Like if you want to learn to fight. The twins could show you how.”

“Naevia said I’d turn myself and everyone around me into a pin-cushion if I was ever trusted with a sword.”

“Did she ever let you prove her wrong?”

“Well no, not really.” Pia clutched her prayer beads like a security blanket. “Um, Kat… after what you said last week, I realise you probably don’t like Okranites that much, followers of the faith I mean, not just Holy Nation… after what they did. The symbol of our faith, it’s supposed to be a beautiful thing. They did wrong to burn it into your face.”

An anger that had previously been dormant stirred into wakefulness once again. “I don’t care, all right? I don’t care what it’s _supposed_ to be. I care about what it _is_. And what it is, is bullshit. I tried praying,” Kat continued, her voice choking. “I tried praying, and everyone in that fucking quarry was praying too, and Okran didn’t care about them, and he let people get _burned alive_ in his name. And one of his followers is being tortured in prison. She might be dead now. Where is Okran, Pia? _Where is he?_ ”

A bird, startled by her sudden shout, took flight from the bushes behind the shrine. To Kat’s surprise, Pia put the beads away and turned back towards the village. “I dunno, Kat,” she said. “I ask myself that question too.”

They walked back in subdued silence. Daria twitched as they approached, and as Kat looked past her, she realised why. There was an army of Ninjas assembled at the gate, far more than were usually up and about at this time of the morning. Confident she and Pia had not taken more than fifteen minutes, she pulled Pia past the guards and headed back towards the refuge.

“You two. Stop right there.”

They stopped as Yayoi strode up to them. Kat knew her only by sight, as they’d never been introduced, but from what she’d heard from her friends’ encounters, Yayoi had no liking for the strangers who’d shown up in Flotsam. “Skulking about outside the gates again, are we? One might be forgiven for thinking you _wanted_ to become food for the cannibals.”

Pia didn’t answer. Evidently incensed by this lack of reaction, Yayoi turned to Kat. “I _suggest_ the pair of you stay inside the village from now on and don’t cause anyone any further worry. Got it?”

“Why’s everyone assembled here, anyway?” Kat said, trying to quell her still-burning anger. “Are people going out?”

“Funny you should ask,” Yayoi said. “We’re going up to World’s End.”

Pia frowned. “But World’s End is—”

“Yes, Pia, we are all more than aware of what has happened to World’s End,” Yayoi interrupted. “The scouts have declared the area safe, so now, all that’s left is to see what the carrion-birds have left. Recovery mission. Satisfied? Now go off and do whatever you lot do with your time.”

“I want to go,” said Pia.

Iza’s charred remains and the subsequent nightmares flashed in front of Kat’s eyes. “No you don’t, Pia.”

“One last trip. I want to see.”

Yayoi scowled. “Fine, whatever. As long as you stick with us and don’t wander off into the Forest again.”

“I won’t,” Pia promised.

“Then get a bag and be prepared to help us carry things down from the mountain.”

“Fine. I got bags, I got loads of bags.”

“Pia, what’re you doing?” Kat hissed as she hurried after Pia’s retreating form. “This _isn’t_ something you want to see. You know what the scouts said. It’s just bodies up there, everyone lying dead. If World’s End was the only place you thought of as being like a home…”

“They never recovered Naevia’s body, you know,” Pia said. “I always struggled believing she was dead.”

“But Pia, this isn’t going to be closure. It’s going to fuck you up, seeing what happened to World’s End. You – you’ve probably not even seen a dead body before, right? Pia, you should stay here.”

“No. Kat, I have to.”

“Then let me come with you. The twins, too. They’ll probably want to see World’s End. Maybe Rei, I dunno. Don’t just go up with the Ninjas. They don’t see that place like you did…”

They went up the steps to the refuge. Pia clung to the wall and tried unsuccessfully to pull her feet straight out of her muddy boots without unlacing them. When her efforts failed, she said, “Can you get my stuff from inside, Kat? I don’t wanna track mud…”

Kat went in. The others had woken up, or were waking up. Spade was attempting to wash at the water-heater. Rei was half-asleep at the breakfast table. Jared was attempting to coax Scrap out from underneath it so he could put him on the lead.

“Everything all right?” Lekko said.

“They’re going up to World’s End again.” Kat found a decently-sized backpack and swung it over her left shoulder. “The Ninjas.”

“Huh?” Rei groggily raised her head. “World’s End?”

“Pia wants to go. I said I’d go with her.”

“What – no, Kat, you shouldn’t go. You never even _went_ to World’s End. You don’t need to see…” Rei yawned and pushed back her chair. “Don’t need to see it like that.”

“Rei has a point,” Lekko said. “Don’t give yourself nightmares.”

“I already have nightmares.”

Rei glanced at Lekko. Kat sensed something unspoken passing between the two of them. Finally Rei mumbled, “If you’re going, I’m going too.”

“Same here.” Spade dried her face with a ragged scrap of cloth. “Oy, Jared. Get yourself ready. We’re going to World’s End.”

In the end, it was the whole group that went out. The Ninjas, already annoyed by the wait, did not look at all happy to see them, but to Kat’s relief, Yayoi remained silent. Pia nervously readjusted the straps of her bag. Spade scowled up at the mountain. Lekko put her head down and tipped the brim of her hat so Kat couldn’t see her face.

“You sure about this, Kat?” Rei mumbled.

“No.”

“Me neither.” Her smile was about as forced as her labour in the slave camp. “But I guess we’ve gotta do it, right?”

Kat couldn’t look at the mountain; apart from anything else, the glare from the sun was too intense. She stared instead at the blanket of pine-needles, and tried to ignore the smoky stench that still lingered from her earlier dream.

“Yeah,” she said, “I guess we do.”

* * *

By the time they reached World’s End, it was just past mid-morning, and Kat was exhausted. The ascent up the mountain slopes had been the most difficult part of their journey, not just for the physical exertion and Kat’s comparative weakness, but for the emotional strain it had placed on all of them. The knowledge of the deaths that had occurred because of them were like a stain on her conscience that could never be scrubbed away, and if Rei’s expression was anything to go by, it was even worse for her.

“You all right, Rei?” she whispered.

“Bit late to turn back now.”

Rei’s hand was shaking. Kat wanted to hold it, but the altercation they’d had almost two weeks ago was still fresh in her mind, and besides, she wasn’t sure how Rei would respond to physical touch. So she stuck her good hand and her bandaged one into the pockets of her trousers, and made fists until the urge to cling to someone for comfort had passed.

It was when they reached the gates of World’s End that Kat’s urge got the better of her. She grabbed Lekko’s arm like a needy child, her bitten fingernails digging into Lekko’s skin. Lekko winced, but did not brush her away. “If you need to stay out here, none of us will blame you.”

Pia was already heaving, her hands on her knees and her forehead against the outer wall. Kat could feel the vomit rising up inside her, too. The _smell._ She couldn’t see yet, but she could smell, and the foul stench of decay and burnt cinders was enough to make her stomach roil like a stormy sea. Even when she put her hand over her mouth and nose, it wasn’t enough. Lekko took her by the shoulder and sat her down a safe distance from Pia.

“Lekko – it smells bad, like Rebirth. Only there’s more rottenness. I can’t do it.”

Rei came up to them, her face white. “The Ninjas… how can they just go in like that, like it doesn’t affect them?” She knelt in the springy mountain soil next to Kat. “We survived the slave camp, right, Kat? I survived Bast, you survived Rebirth. There’s nothing there that’ll hurt us or kill us, just bones and bodies. We got this.” Her voice faltered. “Haven’t we?”

Kat knew Reididn’t want to go in on her own. She reached out a tentative hand towards her. Rei grabbed it, squeezing it so hard Kat was sure the bones were going to break. “Sorry…”

There was no need to ask any of the others if they were coming. Lekko had settled down next to Pia, who was huddled with her face in her hands. The twins had already followed the Ninjas’ lead and crossed through into the ruined town. Scrap was so close to Rei’s legs she was almost tripping over him. “I never thought I’d be coming back to this place… not like this…”

“Why are there Okranite statues?” Kat said, in a vain attempt to stave off the inevitable moment they would have to go inside. She pointed to the toppled stone shapes on either side of the gate. “This wasn’t a Holy Nation town.”

“It was like a disguise, I guess. To keep the Holy Nation from getting too close. Only – only it didn’t do them a lot of good against the United Cities…”

They both took a deep breath, loud enough for the other to hear, and stepped through the gates. Scrap loitered on the threshold, whimpering, but when Kat and Rei did not slow down, he padded after them.

“There are no guards here,” Rei said, pulling the neckline of her top a little higher so her mouth and nose were covered. “I’d have thought they’d have been… oh.”

They stopped short just on the other side of the gates, not adequately prepared for what they were seeing. To say that World’s End was a place of carnage was such a grotesque understatement that Kat would have laughed – if she’d been in a laughing mood. She wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to laugh again, not in the face of this cruel but orderly destruction. The corpses hadn’t just been left where they’d fallen. They’d been heaped in piles and, from the looks of things, set alight. Blackened, crumbling skin flaked around dead, bloated faces. Scraps of colour from surviving clothing wafted, flag-like, in the breeze. The fires hadn’t done their job either, because she could smell the decay underneath all the burning. She tugged at Rei’s hand. “Let’s move away.”

“We can’t, Kat,” Rei whispered. “Look.”

Kat didn’t want to look, but it took only a glance to realise what Rei meant. There was nowhere to turn that wasn’t next to a heap of dead bodies. Her mind numbed as it tried to count them all. There had to be hundreds here, maybe more… She had the sudden, horrible thought that most had probably been defenceless civilians and not Tech Hunters. Tech Hunters would surely have been able to stand up better to whoever had done this, but this bore all the signs of a massacre, and not a battle.

“We should bury them,” she said uselessly. But the soil would be too thin and bare for it, and her mind recoiled at the thought of touching even one of those corpses. “Not just – not just leave them for predators.”

 _Iza’s dead is dead is dead and the flesh burned and melted off and the samurai did the same here…_ Kat had no prior warning she was about to throw up, and she narrowly avoided Rei’s boots and her own bare feet. “They did this. They did this. They all deserve to rot.”

Her legs didn’t want to work anymore, either. Rei had to pull her away before she collapsed into the pool of vomit she’d just made. “We’ll go back, Kat.”

It was too late to go back, it was seared into her brain just as the heretic’s mark had been seared into her face. Kat slumped against Rei, realising belatedly that Rei was slumped against her too. It was like being in water, icy water that caught her with its currents and weighed down her arms and legs and yet still managed to burn and scream and claw at her own flesh.

“How could people do this, Rei?”

Rei’s only reply was a choking sound. Kat forced herself to lift her head and saw that her friend’s eyes were huge, her lips pulled back so her gums were showing. This wasn’t just trauma; it was terror. She wasn’t looking at Kat. Kat followed her line of vision, but all she saw was the corpse-piles. There had been danger here once, but it had long since passed.

“Rei, are you OK?”

She was hyperventilating, her nails drawing blood from Kat’s fingers. The childlike part of Kat that had not quite been lost to slavery instantly thought of ghosts and grievewraiths. Grievewraiths were said to rise up out of Shek corpses, turning into monstrous, spidery forms. “Rei? Rei? What is it?”

Rei grabbed Kat, pulling her close. “Don’t move, stay here, please…” Her voice was garbled. The words were coming out in the right order, but they were fast, and tripping over each other in their haste to deliver their message. “Stay…”

“Rei, what’s going on?”

“Just stay – stay here.”

She was sobbing and flinching and struggling to breathe. Kat, pressed tightly against her shaking chest, had no option other than to gently rub her shoulder with her bandaged hand. “It’s OK. Whatever it is, I’ll protect you.”

It took Rei a while to become calm, but eventually her breathing evened out, and her sobs ceased. She was still shaking, however, and seemed reluctant to let go of Kat’s hand. Scrap, more distracted by the vomit, was trying to lick it up. Kat pulled on the lead to stop him.“Some emotional support you’re being,” she said to him. “Rei, talk to me. Are you OK?”

“It’s gone.” Rei drew up her knees and laid her head on top of them. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“What’s gone?”

“I – nothing. Just ignore me.”

“You saw something, didn’t you?”

“Saw it, heard it.” Rei’s voice was muffled. “Smelled it, too.”

“What was it?”

“Death,” Rei said.

She uncurled herself a little and rubbed her eyes. They were more bloodshot than Kat remembered. “Ava said I wasn’t going crazy.”

“And you’re not.”

“But I am.”

Kat wished she knew what to say. “If you were _really_ going crazy, you wouldn’t think you were, right?”

“Kat, I appreciate it, but you can’t see what’s going on inside my head.” Rei had noticed Scrap attempting to eat the vomit, and she balked a little. “Come _here_ , Scrap.”

Scrap’s head was low as he obeyed Rei’s command. If she hadn’t known better, Kat would have said he felt guilty for ignoring her when she needed him most. “We can leave this place. Go and wait with Lekko and Pia.”

“Not yet.” Rei struggled to her feet. “We should find the twins first.”

She moved off a little unsteadily, like she was being controlled by an inexperienced puppet-master. There were points where she lurched, and Kat thought she might be about to fall into one of the corpse-piles. The true horrors of World’s End overshadowed by concern for Rei, she hurried forward and slipped an arm around her waist.

“What are you doing?”

“Sorry. Should have checked before I touched you.”

“No, it’s not that.” She sounded tired. “I just don’t get why you’re still helping me.”

“We’re still friends, right? We’re a fucked-up pair, but we’re still friends.”

“Fucked-up pair. Fucked-up world, too.”

Kat couldn’t disagree with that. The cloying taste of vomit still clung to the roof of her mouth, and its scent was in her nostrils mingling with all the other unpleasant smells that surrounded them. _So many bodies._ It could so easily have been Rei and the escaped slaves in one of those corpse-piles, eyes rotting in their heads, body fat oozing from beneath the skin like wax from a dripping candle. Kat shuddered, but the image was in her head now. She suspected that even if she were to be violently sick again, it wouldn’t be enough to purge it. “I didn’t see where the others went.”

“We’ll find them,” said Rei.

Her voice had gone back to normal. Too normal, like they were strolling past living people and not dead ones. Her gaze was unfocused, her movements still a little detached. “I wonder if the Holy Nation did this to Bast.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Bast. Ruins. Where we stayed. Lekko nearly got herself killed. That was before the cannibals. Burned the place, I think. Beetle lady told us all ghost stories.”

“Rei, do you want to sit down?”

“Twins. I want to find them first.”

They passed by the ashy remains of what had once been shops and houses and people’s livelihoods. Timber beams, still standing in spite of everything, creaked in the gentle mountain breeze. Kat imagined World’s End just a few weeks ago, where children might have played and giggled outside these houses. She purposely kept her eyes averted from the ruins, but the glimpse of a charred wooden cradle evoked a little sob. Rei had seen it, too, because she turned almost at a right-angle and pulled Kat away so they didn’t have to look at it.

“We shouldn’t have come here,” Kat said.

“Maybe we should.”

They came to a more intact building, where only the roof and a section of the wall had collapsed. Kat paused despite herself and looked inside. Somehow, inexplicably, a single greenfruit was sitting in a half-inch of soil that had been scattered across the wooden planks. It had rotted into pulp, and its juices were leaking, but it was surprisingly undamaged by the fire. She pointed it out to Rei.

“Hydroponics,” Rei said. “They had things that sprayed mist. Water mist.”

“Hydroponics?”

“Yeah… Tech Hunters. Lots of cool shit. Gone up in flames now. Remember Ava? She’d be so upset if she knew. Jared showed me the hydroponics. The greenfruit.”

As they came to the far edge of town, Rei stopped so suddenly she nearly tripped Kat.

“You OK?” Kat knew it was a stupid question, but she couldn’t not ask.

“The University,” Rei said quietly. “I don’t want to go in.”

The University was a huge, round, ancient-style building with a ramp snaked around its foundation. It had stood up far better to the samurai onslaught than most of the other buildings in World’s End, though a large section of the upper wall was missing as if it had been blasted away with full force. Rei removed Kat’s hand from her waist and set off on her own, a skinny, lonesome figure against a backdrop of chaos and destruction. Kat hesitated for only a second before going after her.

The ground floor stank of smoke. Kat could see that not only had things been burned, the imperials had made a concerted effort to burn them. Tables and chairs had been heaped into a makeshift bonfire, with the remnants of what might have been books scattered across the top of the pile. Kat and Rei were not the only ones staring at it, either; the twins were picking their way through the crunching ash, searching for anything that might be salvageable.

“Well, they tried to burn it,” Spade said quietly. “Guess you can’t really burn ancient buildings like this one.”

Kat took one of the books from the pile. Half the cover crumbled away as she picked it up, but she could still make out a few scrawled words. “Cultures… links to the ancients… something about evolution? I bet whatever this was, it was interesting.”

“I think it was one of Finch’s,” Spade said.

Since there was nothing left of any value in there, Kat threw it back into the ashes. “Is there anything upstairs?”

“More of the same,” Spade replied. “Something exploded up there. The core, probably.”

Kat had no idea what she was referring to, but Rei nodded distantly as if she understood. “Hope it blew up in their faces. The samurai, I mean.”

“Yeah.” Spade had something in her hand. When Kat peered more closely, she saw it was a pair of safety-goggles. They were a little like the modified pair Ava had worn in Bark, but the lenses were round and tinted dark brown. “I dunno if I should take these with me, or leave them here.”

“Why do you want them?”

“I don’t, not really. I just… I need something to remind myself that this has happened. And what we’ve lost.”

“Keep hold of them, then.”

Spade nodded. The leather strap may have been damaged beyond repair, but the glass was still intact. She clutched them in both hands for a moment, then slipped them into her pocket. “I never thought this would happen to the University. And when I saw all the smoke, I knew they wouldn’t have spared it. It’s just…”

“A shock?”

“Yeah.” She snorted. “Feels like the wrong word, but you’re right. Jared?”

He looked over. “Yeah?”

“Let’s get out of here.”

As the four of them descended the ramp, Spade said, “Does anyone… does anyone want to look for the bodies? Of the Machinists, I mean? I feel like I owe it to them somehow.”

“What can we do if we find them?” Rei asked.

“I don’t know. I just think maybe we should.”

Rei nodded. Kat, who had no idea whose bodies she was supposed to be looking for, went to the back of the group, while the twins moved forward. It didn’t take long for them to find another pile of corpses, twisted and grimacing and black with soot and burned flesh.

“You think they came to the University first?” Spade said, her voice wobbling.

“Probably,” Rei replied.

Kat saw the three Shek exchange glances, and knew what they were thinking; none of them were keen to delve through the bodies to begin the process of identification. After several minutes of standing there staring, Spade moved around to the back of the pile and let out a little whimpering sound. “Jared, I found Iyo.”

“Do you want some help?”

She nodded. Kat and Rei stayed a respectful distance away as the twins dragged a limp metallic shape out from the among the other fallen Machinists. It was a little less gruesome, seeing a dead Skeleton. _Just a pile of spare parts,_ Kat tried to tell herself, but the knowledge that she was looking at a body still made her recoil. “They can’t be repaired, can they? Skeletons?”

“You can’t bring them back, if that’s what you’re asking.” Silent tears were rolling down Jared’s cheeks. Spade held his hand. The two of them stared down at Iyo’s body, a useless chunk of metal that was soaked in oil. A ragged hole in the centre of his chest must have been what had killed him. “Pia… is she here?”

“Outside the gates, last time we saw,” Kat mumbled. “She didn’t want to come in.”

“Good. This isn’t something she needs to see.” He turned to his sister. “These bodies… they’ll become bones. But not Iyo’s. I think maybe we should do something.”

“What do you want to do? Dismantle him?”

He shuddered. “That’s like dismemberment.”

“We could try digging a grave?”

“We owe it to him, right? He changed our lives.”

“Yeah. Help me carry him, then.”

The twins picked Iyo up, staggering a little with his weight. Kat and Rei followed them around the side of the University’s foundation, to a craggy spot where the mountainside dropped away sharply. The four of them stood and gazed out over the scenery.

“It’s nice here,” Spade murmured. “Couldn’t have been a nicer place, really?”

But when Kat scuffed her foot in the dirt, she noticed a layer of gleaming rock just a few inches below the soil.

“I don’t think you’ll be able to dig here,” she said.

“We’re not just walking away,” said Jared. He picked up a nearby rock and set it down where where Iyo was lying. Catching on, Spade began to do the same, and the shape of a small cairn of rocks began to take form over the body.

“Maybe we should help,” Kat whispered to Rei.

It was a difficult task, and one that took the last of the strength they had, but after twenty minutes, they had made an acceptably-sized rock pile. Spotting a gleaming metallic finger, Spade fetched a stone and laid it on top.

“I wish we could do this for everyone,” she said.

“Me too.” Jared stared at the cairn. “Do you want me to find the rum?”

“I think maybe it should be you, yeah.”

“Rum?” Kat said blankly as Jared left.

“Shek thing,” Spade explained, then, at Rei’s blank expression, added, “Shek Kingdom thing, anyway.”

Jared returned ten minutes later carrying a bottle of rum he’d presumably found in one of the ruined bars. He dusted off the worst of the ash, uncorked it and glanced over at Spade. “You sure you don’t want to help with this?”

She hesitated. “Together, then.”

She put her hand on top of Jared’s, and together they tipped the bottle. Kat watched as the rum poured out, splashing up from the rocks. It felt like such a private moment she wanted to walk away from it, and yet she couldn’t move. When the bottle ran empty, the twins lowered their hands and stood side-by-side, watching as the rum trickled across the stones.

“He didn’t deserve to die like this,” Jared said. “Or be buried like this.”

“We did what we could.” Spade reached out for him, but he was walking away, the empty bottle of rum swinging in his grip. “Jared?”

She ran to catch up with him, grabbing his arm as his strides took him dangerously close to the edge of the mountainside. He didn’t seem to notice her; in fact, he barely broke his stride at all as he drew back his arm and threw the empty rum bottle with a yell. The momentum nearly took Jared over the edge, and Spade yelped too as she dragged him back. Even from where Kat was standing, she could hear the echoes as it bounced down the rocky slope. The sounds faded, rather than ending abruptly, and when she dared approach the ridge, she saw the rum bottle far below, still rolling and bouncing.

“Careful,” she warned Rei; she had not forgotten the cliff that had crumbled away under Ava’s feet. “The soil might slip.”

Rei moved back, but the twins did not appear to have heard. They were hugging on the floor, Spade’s fingers interlaced with Jared’s horns as she murmured something comforting. Rei made to approach them, but Kat shook her head.

“I don’t think there’s anything we can say. Let them have that moment.”

It was a subdued ten minutes, the twins sobbing in each other’s arms and Rei huddling miserably with her back against a pile of rubble. Kat wished she could cry, and indeed her eyes began to feel slightly damp, but no actual tears were forthcoming. All she could do was sit with Rei and hope that her churning mess of emotions found an appropriate outlet before it found an inappropriate one.

The arrival of the Ninjas, grim-faced but otherwise unaffected by the destruction all around them, was enough to dash that hope. Kat noticed they had rather more swords and armour than they’d carried up the mountain, and their bags were bulging. She stood up, the cold river-like rush moving her limbs for her. “You’re looting.”

“Of course we are,” Yayoi said. “We did tell you it was a recovery mission. We told you to bring bags. What do you think we meant?”

“And this is what recovery means to you, is it? Stealing stuff…”

“It’s not like _they’re_ going to use it, is it?” Yayoi demanded. She indicated the corpse-piles. “We need every damn thing we can take, and you can stay here and cry for all we care, but leave your judgements out of this. This is about survival.”

“They’re right, you know, Kat,” Spade said, helping Jared up. “Better Flotsam take it than cannibals come up here and start arming themselves.”

Kat had no real response to that, but her body was still screaming at her to fight. It was only when the Ninjas had walked past without further comment that she backed down. “I’m going back to the others.”

“I think that’s a good idea. We need to leave.” Spade’s voice carried all the finality of a toothpick snapped in half. “Rei? You ready to go back?”

Rei, staring into space, did not respond. Kat hesitated, wrestling both with her conscience and her better judgement, then finally pulled the twins aside. “Don’t tell her I told you this, but Rei… she needs help.”

“We all need help,” Spade said flatly. “What’re we supposed to do for her?”

“She was struggling in Bark, but she’s been struggling more since we met up again. Just now, before we found you two… she was scared. Terrified of something in her head, and she thinks she’s going crazy.”

“She’s not the only one.”

“No, she’s…” There was no escaping it; Kat took her courage into her hands and told the truth. “She’s seeing stuff that isn’t there, hearing stuff that isn’t there. I don’t know how to help her. I don’t even know if Ava would have been able to help her. Maybe it’s just half a year’s stress coming out. But I’m worried she… she…”

“You’re worried she might become a liability?”

Rei was still sitting by the rock. She hadn’t moved at all from her previous position. Kat rubbed at her temple. All the horrible sights and putrefying smells and raw emotional edges had left her with a throbbing head. “Not to anyone else. Just to herself. I’m scared for her, Spade. She’s… she’s not doing well.”

“I’ll talk to her,” Jared said.

“Thank you.” She had not forgotten her accusation, and Jared clearly hadn’t, either. But for a moment, there was a little spark of mutual understanding, and they looked at one another with fresh respect. “I’ll go and get her.”

To Kat’s surprise, he came with her. With two of them, it was easier to coax Rei out of her curled-up state, and the look of relieved gratitude on her face was almost enough to override the guilt of Kat’s betrayal. “I’m sorry I’ve been so out of it.”

“Hey,” Jared said, “at least you weren’t the one screaming into the mountains.”

Spade was clutching the goggles like a child clutching a favourite doll. She didn’t look at the others as they drew near, instead staring at the smudged and sooty lenses. “Remember what leaving this place used to mean?” she asked the goggles. “That we were going away for a while, but we’d come back?”

“I guess we’re heading out for a pretty extended adventure now, right?” But Jared’s heart wasn’t in his attempt at humour, and even his smile fell flat. He put his hand on Spade’s shoulder. “We’ll manage, sister. After all, it’s not the end of the world. Just the end of World’s End.”

Spade’s expression did not change. “Sounds like the end of the world to me.”

“They’ll pay for it. If someone else doesn’t make them pay, we’ll see to it personally, yeah?”

“Oh,” said Spade, “I’ll definitely be seeing to it personally.”

She turned her back on the University. Kat suspected she was doing so for the last time.

“Tech Hunters don’t forget,” she snarled.

And that was all she said for the rest of the journey back.


	7. Contract

Rei sat with her back to the wall, the blanket pressed to her chest. Scrap snored softly with his nose on her lap. Rei would have loved to have done the same – turn the world off for a little while and hide away from the creeping shadows – but she was awake. Awake, and with a heart that jumped and thudded so violently she wondered if it was about to fail on her. _Wouldn’t be the first time something gave up on me._

It was enough of a struggle trying to keep her head straight. Right now, her mind felt like an overflowing jug of water, spilling out in icy dread, yet things continued to rush on around her. There was too much noise, too many smearing colours, and the place reeked of lavender again. Dark fingers clawed at her from every angle, trying to latch on to something. She pulled away, scrunching the blanket under her chin. She knew those shadowy hands were behind her as well but at least she was unable to see them. They whispered as they scratched and dragged at her scalp, meaningless hissing noise that lost itself in the flood of everything else.

She wasn’t aware of Kat sitting down until she’d sat down. “Hi, Rei.”

“It’s too loud.” If the movement of her lips hadn’t coincided with the sounds she was hearing, Rei wouldn’t have recognised her voice as her own. It was higher and far more wavery than she remembered, like an old woman’s. “Tell them to shut up.”

Kat’s brow pinched. Rei saw her glance at Lekko. “Nobody’s talking, Rei.”

“I just need it to be quiet.”

“Hey, let’s go and sit outside, maybe it’ll be quieter out there.”

Scrap stirred as Rei stood up, but promptly went back to sleep with his head on the discarded blanket. Kat took Rei by the hand and led her out to the steps. The evening was dry and still and a little scrap of heat from the sun still lingered. The shadows did not follow, but the sensory overload remained. “Take a few deep breaths. You’re breathing pretty fast.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah.” Kat’s eyes were bright, blurry stars. “What we saw in World’s End…”

“I saw them alive. And now they’re not. And they never will be. And all that evil, Kat… I felt it. It was there, and it hated us, and it laughed when we cried. It was so strong, I’ve never felt anything like it. I think it came with us. Kat, I know I sound crazy…”

“You’re not crazy. Your mind’s just overloaded and trying to make sense of it all. Ava would have said that.”

“Ava didn’t understand.”

“Maybe she understood a little more than you realise. I think she had shadows, too.”

“Yeah… bet they never spoke to her.” Rei tugged her hand away from Kat’s. It was a clumsy movement, and she misjudged it enough that she almost sent Kat flying. “Sorry. I need some time. On my own. A walk will help, right? I’ll walk. Walk it off.”

“Rei, you should probably try and go to sleep.”

“It’s too noisy in there.”

“OK,” Kat said after a moment’s pause. “Whatever helps. One of us will come and find you if you’re still out alone when it’s gotten dark, yeah?”

“That’s fine.” Rei just wanted to get away from Kat’s concern. She struggled through the mud, feeling like she was trying to walk on stilts, and made her way unsteadily across the sloshy grass. The ground was too close yet too distant, too sharply focused yet too blurry. At points, she could count every individual blade of grass, but then it would spin away from her.

 _Running away from your own mind,_ Haga gloated above the whispers.

“I’m not talking to you,” Rei told him.

 _You just did._ He giggled, like a man on a hashish high. Rei caught a flash of turquoise robe fluttering away at the corner of her vision. _You can’t ignore me. CAN YOU?_ The shout echoed inside her head, bruising the walls of her mind. It was enough to shake some of the plaster loose. _I’ll always be here, as long as you live. Why not change that? Atone for World’s End, little murderer. Take that sword of yours and run yourself through with it._

Rei realised she was shaking so violently she could barely keep her balance. “No.”

_Open your wrists on the blade. Wander into a cannibal den. Stick your head in the furnace. It isn’t hard to do. Quite easy to be dead, once you’ve gotten used to it._

“Please stop.”

But he continued to goad her all the way through the village, tormenting her mind into blankness. It was only when the creeping fingers caught up with her and grabbed her arm that she was jerked out of it. She blinked and wondered why the shadowy hand was attached to a face that was so solid. “What… what do you want?”

“To stop _you_ from tripping and falling into the well.” The hand turned her shoulder a little. The stone edge of the well was right at her feet. “Where were you going?”

Rei didn’t know. The last thing she really remembered was that hated glimpse of turquoise. “You’ve been drinking,” she said.

“Yeah, but you haven’t. Right? Come and sit with us.” And Jared – it was definitely Jared, the shadows weren’t enough to obscure him – led her past the well and sat her down under a tree. Rei stared mutely at the bottles strewn around the roots. “You want grog? We still got some.”

“Where did you get it?”

“World’s End. Some of it survived the fires.”

“You didn’t tell the Ninjas.”

“Of course we didn’t. We didn’t tell the others we were getting pissing drunk, either. Grog? Rum?”

“Didn’t think you’d want to get me drunk.”

“Nor did I… but World’s End? You can’t see that shit and still want to be sober, right?”

Spade was leaning with her back against the trunk, swigging from a rum bottle. She nudged it into Rei’s hand. “Drink that and tell whatever you’re hearing to fuck off.”

“Wait.” The rum bottle felt very heavy for something that was half empty. “Who told you?”

“Oh… little Scorchywhatsit… Kat.”

“ _Kat_ told you?”

“She was worried about you,” Jared said. “I wouldn’t be too mad at her.”

“Would be nice if people could worry ’bout _us_ , right, Jared?” Spade grabbed the rum bottle, evidently forgetting she’d given it to Rei. “But nobody cares about a pair of loose cannons with – with fuckin’ – fuckin’ anger issues and cheatin’ at card games…”

“I care,” Rei said.

“Yeah. Sure.” Spade drank more rum, wiped her mouth, handed to Jared. He gave it back to Rei when she wasn’t looking. “Family put us in fuckin’ barracks so we could learn some fuckin’ discipline, we thought we got another one that was better but we got to look at them dead and burned up in piles… fuck, I need more booze. How much we got left?” There was a vague aggressiveness to her demeanour, as if the perceived lack of alcohol was a personal slight. “I’m gonna keep drinking ’til I pass out. That’s allowed, right? Or are the stupid fuckin’ Okranites gonna try and tell me that’s not _proper behaviour…_ ”

“Someone said that?” Jared was trying to prise the top off another bottle with his thumbnail.

“They’re thinking it.”

Rei tilted the bottle, the sweet burning respite draining into her throat.

_Are you going to try and drink me away, little slave? I’ll still be here when you sober up._

“You hear him, right?” she said to Spade.

“Huh? Hear what?”

“Him. Haga.”

“Oh. Yeah. Fuckin’ bastard. Sometimes think he’s laughing at me.”

“But does he talk to you?”

“No… he’s dead.”

“Would that stop him?” It wasn’t a rhetorical question. She desperately wanted to know the answer.

“Rei,” Spade slurred, “ _you_ stopped him.”

She almost hadn’t. There had still been voices back then, but Haga had been far less tangible, and the sharp, terrifying memories had come in bursts rather than as constant background noise. Even those had been enough to bring her to her knees. “It doesn’t feel like we did. It still feels like he won.”

“Fuckin’ United Cities… they think they won. They all think they won. We’ll show ’em. Win a battle, lose the war, right?”

Rei stared listlessly at the bottle and wished it contained more rum. “How do we show them?”

“We get your friends back.” Her gaze was unfocused, but her tone was determined. “We go to the Shek Kingdom, we find this… Tower or whatever…”

“Taura?”

“Yeah, her. And… and we get her to bring an army, an army of Shek. The imperials would never stand a chance. And they’d storm the prison and send them running with their tails between the legs, and we get your friends, and… we’ll make it work.”

But the doubts that had plagued Rei since the destruction of World’s End were as strong as ever. This time, she was finally willing to lend voice to them. “We won’t be able to make it work.”

“Why not?”

“Because it was a desperate idea. You saw what they did to a whole town. What would they do to a little army?”

“We’d get a big army!”

“Taura doesn’t have any reason to help us. We’re outsiders.”

“Thought she was your friend’s girlfriend.”

“Ex-girlfriend.”

“Urgh, whatever.” Spade picked another bottle and started drinking from it. “Jared’s exes have gotten us out of tight spots before.”

“Mostly coz I remain on good terms with them,” Jared put in. “Also, Tech Hunter loyalties transcend breakups. You know the Shek Kingdom doesn’t think in the same way.”

“Whose side are you even on? Hers or mine?”

Jared did not reply, which was perhaps wise. They slumped in a huddle by the tree, drinking in silence as the sun went down. Up in the branches, the birds began their dusk songs.

“Must be nice, being a bird,” Spade said. “All they do is sing and fuck.”

“And get eaten by bigger birds,” Jared pointed out.

“Sounds like the Shek Kingdom.”

They were talking as if Rei wasn’t there, which suited her just fine. She curled up at the base of the tree, the bark rough against her skin, and tried not to think about Haga. She’d drunk just enough alcohol that a pleasant numbness was seeping in, but she knew it would be a bad idea to drink any more. _The l_ _ast thing you need is a drinking problem,_ Ava had once said. Rei rather suspected Ruka’s habits had driven her to say that. The alcoholism had not been a particularly well-kept secret.

“Oh, here we go,” Spade said contemptuously, “the Okranites have finally sent someone to scold us.”

Rei looked up. She recognised Daria,one of the guards on the gate who also held services on Prayer Day. She hadn’t been present for World’s End. “What’s going on here? Did you steal that from the headquarters?”

“We didn’t _steal_ anything,” Spade said, with all the righteous indignation of someone who’d had far too much to drink.

“I mean, we kind of did,” Jared pointed out.

“Not from _them_. And why do _they_ have secret supplies of alcohol, anyway?”

“Sister…”

“No, this is bollocks.” Spade lurched to her feet, as Daria raised a disapproving eyebrow. “If you got a fucking problem with us—”

“This isn’t a good look,” Daria said, “having drunken indulgence when supplies are running low.”

“Oh, like you care about that. You just want to give us a hard time coz you don’t want us here. We could be walking around with our eyes lifted to the sky an’… an’ having prayer meetings and you wouldn’t like us.”

“OK, I don’t actually give a—”

“Coz we’re spawn of Narko!” She swung her empty bottle threateningly. Rei had enough presence of mind to tug it out of her grasp. “Yeah, I know you’re one of the fuck-heads who calls us beasts. I’ve heard you. And you know what? You can go fuck yourself, you holier-than-thou, up-yourself wannabe paladin.”

“Ouch.” Jared winced. “Spade…”

Daria’s eyes flashed. “Since Okran will frown on me for using violence, I’ll give you a chance to take that back.”

“Oh, Okran will frown on you? Will he now? Isn’t he more likely to frown on you for swanning around pretending to be a priest? Being a woman is probably more offensive to him than doing what all the other paladins do… What you gonna do, anyway? Send us all to Rebirth?”

Daria slapped her. Spade, bolstered by drunkenness, looked more stunned than hurt by the sudden violence, but it didn’t stop Jared from jumping to his feet and making a grab for the front of Daria’s robe. The sudden presence of a ninja blade was enough to stop him in his tracks.

“Have you forgotten that you’re guests in our village?” Daria said, her voice low and dangerous. “Do you think Moll will be impressed when she hears about this?”

Spade leaned unsteadily against Jared. Her cheek was already bright red. “You hit like a flatskin.”

“And _you_ have all the self-control of a darkened.” Daria brushed down her robes, as if the mere attempt at making physical contact had dirtied them. “As drunk, rowdy and disrespectful as any Tech Hunter, too. I’m not so convinced World’s End was such a great loss—”

Time seemed to speed up. Spade threw a clumsy punch with her unbandaged hand. Daria caught a glancing blow to the jaw and lost her balance, falling into the mud. When she sat up, her eyes blazed with righteous fury. “First you insult a priestess of Okran, then you assault her…”

 _You see,_ said Haga, _this is why I like Shek women._ The whispering shadows crept in behind him, giggling and laughing.

Rei did not reply. She had a horrible feeling Spade’s actions were about to land them in serious trouble with Moll.

* * *

Down in the bowels of the palace, underneath the embroidered rugs and fluttering veils, the annual summit had turned into a council of war. Marisa’s best guess was that they were further discussing the proposed attack on Okran’s Shield, but since she’d been banished from the chamber along with most of the other guards, it was just that – a guess.

She was not entirely sorry to be off duty. She had spent most of the day recovering from the late night, and her eyes were still puffy and sore. But if yesterday’s summit had been tedious, sitting on a hard wooden bench in a stuffy room was probably worse. It had to be past midnight now, and the nobles were still talking downstairs. It was going to be another long evening. A long evening, and a worrying one.

Marisa had not stayed around when she and her fellow guards had first been dismissed. Instead she’d returned to the noble-house, and sat on the sidelines as the other guards drank and played cards. It was only when two samurai had come to the house that she’d learned her presence had again been requested, and she had been taken back to the palace.

Even though the emperor’s men had been silent on the matter, Marisa had guessed her retrieval could mean nothing good. Her first clue was that the new slave had been summoned along with her; her second, that they had both been led into a small, curtained-off area and left there. Marisa hadn’t been fooled by the apparent lack of guards. The slight swaying of the veils had betrayed the outlines of armoured bodies and unsheathed _nodachis_.

The room was almost completely bare. There were no rugs, no tapestries, no plush seating; nothing but a hard bench and a table with a jug of water on it. Marisa had drunk most of the water already. It had been a nervous thirst, but now she really needed the outhouse, and she suspected the guards outside weren’t about to let her go. So she waited, trying not to squirm, and hoped whoever wanted her would be along shortly.

Who _had_ summoned her? She had assumed the emperor, as the two men sent to fetch her had been wearing his colours, but now she came to think about it, Lady Sanda would be a far more obvious choice. After all, the girl was a member of her household too…

 _The girl…_ What if she had said something to Lady Sanda? Told lies about Marisa? Marisa’s mind began to race as increasingly paranoid thoughts crept in. She probably hated Marisa; she’d certainly challenged her authority. And she was a slave. Marisa did not trust slaves. People who were worthless enough to be slaves in the first place were probably the sorts of people who span stories and betrayed their masters at the first opportunity.

“Good evening, Marisa. It’s good to see you again.”

Marisa’s head had been nodding in the stuffiness of the room. Now, it snapped up with enough force to crick her neck. Lord Aramid, the Okranite noble, had slipped through the veil and was watching her with interest. She nearly collapsed in her haste to stand up, and she had to grab the table in order to bow. “Lord Aramid.”

“And who’s this?” Lord Aramid had just noticed the girl, sitting cross-legged on the floor. She’d tried to sit next to Marisa when they’d arrived, but one of the guards had scared her off with his _nodachi._ “Lady Sanda’s slave, I take it?”

She nodded.

“I’d ask your name, but there’s no point. Right. Well, the council has finished for the evening, so…” He sat down uninvited at the table and poured himself a cup of water. “I believe we were never formally introduced. But you know who I am, and _I_ know who _you_ are.” He peered into the bottom of the cup for a second. “You’ve been drinking this?”

“Yes, my lord.”

He drained the cup in one go and set it back with a clatter. “Thirsty work, listening to plans to attack your former homeland. Now, if you’d like to follow me…”

“My lord.” Marisa hated herself for interrupting, and knew she might face punishment for doing so, but she couldn’t stop herself. “Forgive me, my lord. Follow you where?”

His eyebrows rose. “Lady Sanda didn’t tell you,” he said.

“I… no, my lord? Ought she have done?”

His steely eyes softened for a moment, and she felt a sudden twist in her gut. Pity. He was looking at her like she was an animal that had just realised it was about to be slaughtered. “Your employer’s changed. You both work for me now. Come along.”

“My lord?”

“Come on,” he said impatiently, sweeping his long, dark robes off the bench, “it would be nice to go to bed before sunrise.”

“My lord.” Marisa’s hands sweated on the table. “Lady Sanda _gave_ you to me? But she’s – my home’s in Bark—”

“Be quiet and follow me, before I have you arrested for insubordination.”

Her good leg was shaking, her mechanical one even more so. Marisa followed almost in a stupor, sure she must have misheard. _Lady Sanda doesn’t want me._ She supposed she ought to have seen it coming – ever since she’d lost her leg she’d known she wasn’t that useful – but she’d thought capturing Ava and Ruka would be enough to keep her in Lady Sanda’s favour. And now she’d been ripped away from that life without so much as a word, and given to some Okranite she barely knew and wasn’t at all sure she trusted. She pinched the inside of her wrist. The sharp digging pain of her fingernails was enough to finally convince her she wasn’t dreaming.

Lord Aramid’s noble-house was not far from the palace. It was a newly-built station-house, not one of the old outpost styles that nobles traditionally favoured, but it was still enormous. Several United Cities banners were draped over the outside stonework, and above the door-frame, Marisa could see a sigil more personal than the half-bird shapes; a pair of crossed swords above a burning torch. Lady Sanda had never had a sigil. She wondered what the torch was supposed to represent, but dared not ask any further questions. If there was one thing nobles hated, it was being questioned by their inferiors.

“Come,” Lord Aramid said. “Try not to trip on the steps.”

The house was more sensibly-furnished than the palace, luxurious yet oddly sparse. The main living area, divided from the rest of the house by a black velvet curtain, contained a silk-draped table and a number of bookshelves. The curtain had been embroidered, over and over, with the sigil Marisa had spotted above the door on her way in. In spite of the multitudes of glinting silver thread, the curtain seemed very dark and looming, and Marisa got the strange and unpleasant sensation it was closing in around her.

“And this is your house, my lord?” she mumbled, as the courage to speak slowly returned.

“It is indeed. Sit down. Both of you sit down.”

Marisa sat at the table. The girl made to sit on the floor at Lord Aramid’s feet, but he shook his head and gestured to the stool right next to him. She settled onto the stool, her chains dragging across the floor in a way that set Marisa’s teeth on edge, and watched Lord Aramid with the same sort of wariness that Marisa felt.

“Here.” Lord Aramid passed a scroll across the table to Marisa. “I thought you might like to see the confirmation for yourself, lest you be afraid I was kidnapping you.”

Marisa opened it. She didn’t need to read it all; she was familiar enough with the writing style. Lady Sanda had a tendency to reiterate the same points multiple times. “A contract,” she said quietly, seeing her lady’s signature. _No, not_ my _lady, not anymore._ She re-furled it and gave it back to Lord Aramid. “I see.”

“Do forgive me for threatening to arrest you, by the way. I have a certain image I like to maintain.” Lord Aramid chuckled, as if that image was a mere folly on his part. “But between you and me, I have no vested interest in having you locked away. You have far better uses than that.”

He leaned forward, clasping his hands and fixing Marisa with his piercing gaze.

“Tell me, Marisa. How does it feel to read that contract, knowing that she sold you?”

“I’m no slave,” Marisa said, fighting to keep her voice level. “I wasn’t _sold_.”

“No, you were given away. Like a trinket she no longer wanted.” His voice dripped contempt. “Your friend here, on the other hand, was sold.” He waved a hand at the girl. “Well, Lady Sanda didn’t want a cripple for a bodyguard, and to put it bluntly, nor do I.”

Marisa’s hands were shaking on the table, and she couldn’t hide them without drawing further attention to herself. Lord Aramid’s eyes seemed to be boring into her very soul. “No, my lord.”

“So, you’re no longer my bodyguard. Dismissed. There, done.” He reached for a bottle of sake and poured some for himself. “Like I said. You have better uses.”

Marisa’s head span. Being a guard was the only thing she knew how to do, unless she was about to be demoted to a mere servant.

“I spoke to you before. You were the woman behind the curtain.”

She nodded. There was no point in denying it.

“You’re a cautious person. I was rather expecting you to run your mouth, you know, spill all your little indiscretions. A little disappointing, the game is always more fun when people do that. You still gave a lot away… but that’s something we can work on.”

What had she given away, Marisa thought frantically. “My lord, what would you have me do? Will I be your servant?” _Servant…_ A shameful demotion. She wondered if anyone she knew would ever find out, and if they would laugh about it.

Lord Aramid chuckled and shook his head at her. “Part servant, part guard. Just not the fighting type of guard.”

“My lord?”

“Yes, Marisa.”

“What other type of guard is there?”

He just smiled and offered her sake. She shook her head, sure it was a test. Lady Sanda had not liked her guards drinking, which had probably been why she’d dealt with them all so severely after Ava had done whatever she’d done to them.

“I hear being unceremoniously sacked is a shock to the nerves. Drink.”

She drank. The sake was not the good sort, or maybe she didn’t know how to appreciate good sake. She gagged a little and set the cup down as nonchalantly as possible.

“We’ll have to do something about that leg of yours. A recent injury?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“How recent?”

“About six weeks, my lord.”

“Six weeks.” To Marisa’s relief, he displayed no outward sign of pity. He poured her more sake. “It troubles you.”

“No, my lord.”

“Don’t lie to me, Marisa. I can tell when people are in pain. And Lady Sanda had you walking through the desert on that… pole? We’ll have to fix that. There’s a proper specialist in Heft who can fit you with something better. Once you’ve healed, of course.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Speaking of losing things…” He indicated the girl. “Do you know if she has a name?”

“No, my lord. She never told me.”

“Of course she didn’t,” he said. There was a hint of exasperation in his voice. Marisa wondered if she’d been slow. “Lady Sanda had her tongue cut out, like she does with all her slaves.”

Marisa gasped. Suddenly the girl’s strange-sounding sobs and snores made sense. The girl turned her face away, staring fixedly at one of the banners on the walls. “I didn’t realise.”

“We’ll need to work on your observational skills, it would seem. Well, if you don’t know her name, and she isn’t literate, she won’t be able to tell us. Give her a name.”

“A name, my lord?”

“If you had a bonedog or a pack beast, wouldn’t you name it?”

Marisa had never been asked to name anything in her life. She suspected she wasn’t terribly imaginative with names. “Wouldn’t you name her, my lord?” she ventured. “You _are_ her master.”

“I don’t want or need a slave. She can stay with you.” He handed Marisa a set of keys on a ring. “Maybe she’ll remind you of Lady Sanda, or Bark, or something.”

“You’re _giving_ her to me, my lord?” Marisa said, blinking at the shackle keys. She must have misunderstood.

“Do you want her?”

“Yes! I just… didn’t think anyone would ever—”

“Well, then. If she’s going to be your slave, you’ve got to give her a name.”

The girl was watching Marisa with an uncomfortable intensity. Marisa suspected she was being tested again.

“Cassie,” she said, thinking of a friend Lady Sanda had disposed of.

“Cassie.” His head tilted a little, as if he was weighing it. After a moment or two of consideration, he smiled. “Good name. Cassie it is, then.”

Cassie looked relieved. She’d probably had just as little faith in Marisa’s ability to name things as Marisa herself.

“I’m sure you’re a little overwhelmed by the developments,” Lord Aramid said as he stood up, “so I’ll let you go to bed.”

“But my lord—” _Wh_ _at do you want from me,_ she longed to ask, but she had suddenly become as mute as Cassie.

Lord Aramid held up a hand. “I’m sure you have burning questions, but they can wait. We’ll discuss more in the morning. I’ll show you where your bed is.”

When Marisa had first arrived at Lady Sanda’s noble-house from the training barracks, it had been one of the slaves who’d taken her to where she’d be sleeping. Lady Sanda would never have dirtied her hands with something as mundane as showing a guard around. But Lord Aramid was acting like _he_ was _her_ servant, showing her through the curtain with a courteous smile.

“Here,” he said, as they entered a small corner area entirely cordoned off by screens. To Marisa’s surprise she found herself staring not at a military-style cot, but a proper, deep mattress set on a sturdy frame. A coverlet had been spread over the sheets and blankets, and the pillows were thick and full. “This is your bed.”

“But my lord,” she protested, “I’m not a noble. I don’t deserve—”

His eyebrow arched. “You can reject what I’m offering you and sleep on the floor with Cassie, if you wish.”

“I’ll take the bed,” she whispered, shamefaced.

“Excellent. Oh, and Marisa?”

“Yes, my lord?”

“Give me your leg.”

She froze, realising he had, quite literally, backed her into a corner. “My lord, I can’t—”

“I’ll give you some crutches. You’ll still be able to get around.”

“But my lord…”

“Marisa.”

He turned away pointedly, allowing her the privacy to remove her heavy plated trousers. Marisa knew there was no arguing with a noble. She eased the trousers off, then sat on the bed and unfastened the leg, handing that little piece of freedom over. “But my lord, I won’t be any use to you without it.”

“You won’t be any use to me if you’re dead from an infection. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re still standing, in more ways than one.” His tone became shrewd. Even though he couldn’t see her, Marisa got the sudden impression he was looking right through her. “How many drugs have you got stowed away on your person?”

“My lord?”

“Give them to me.”

Marisa’s hands shook as she passed the vials to Lord Aramid. She wasn’t entirely sure they were shaking from stress. As she scrambled to cover herself up, Lord Aramid held one of the bottles to the light, tipping it from side to side to see how much was in there. “These things are addictive, you know.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“You’ll poison yourself.”

She did not reply. Lord Aramid tucked the bottles inside his robes. “I realise it’s probably cruel, depriving you of these. Still, I’d hate to see you overdose yourself by accident. Try and manage without them for the night.”

“Yes, my lord,” she whispered.

“I’ll say goodnight, then. Leave you to settle in. Oh, but before I go…” He trailed off and glanced over, wearing just a hint of a playful smirk. “Have you ever pissed in a pot before? There’s one under the bed. Have fun… and try not to fall into it.”

He was gone before Marisa even had a chance to blush.


	8. Loyalties

During his fifteen years’ imprisonment in Tengu’s Vault, Luquin had seen a lot of people die.

The Vault was not a forgiving environment. He knew that as well as any other prisoner. Even the most hardened rebel could succumb to torture, to sickness, to one beating too many. Some inmates, young and previously healthy, had been alive one moment and dead the next, their hearts simply given out. The guards would drag the lifeless bodies from the cages, and the cycle would continue. Luquin wasn’t even convinced those poor souls got any kind of burial; he imagined them dumped in the wastes, becoming carrion for various scavengers. Anonymous bones, to be buried by the dust-storms and forgotten forever… a release, perhaps, from a miserable existence as a hated criminal. It had still never been Luquin’s preferred escape plan.

But if watching someone die was bad, watching someone’s spirit crumble was far worse. There was a point where staying alive turned into simply continuing to exist, and Ruka was close to that point. Luquin could see it now: the glazed, despondent look in her eyes, the way she struggled to even lift her head, the way she barely reacted to her name or the rap of a _jitte_ against the cage bars. It wasn’t just due to physical weakness; Luquin had formerly seen the doggedness in her expression as she’d tried over and over again to sit up. He suspected it had far more to do with the young, female screaming they’d both heard, over and over again for almost a week now. Ruka was no use to the Okranite alive, so she might as well be dead. Luquin sympathised with the mindset, even if he wished he could do something to change it.

“Ruka, talk to me,” he whispered.

She didn’t talk. She didn’t care to. She was too busy waiting to die, and death was cruel enough to keep her waiting.

“Have you ever seen a pack of gutters trying to take on a leviathan?” he said.

A tiny amount of life flickered in her fixed, distant stare, promptly snuffed out by that deep, living death. Still, it was the response Luquin had been hoping for. Shek warriors had excitement and violence practically engrained in their psyches. “When I was a kid, we lived on the Bonefields near Catun. I don’t know if you’ve ever been…” He took her lack of response for a no. “It’s a whole different world from the northern cities. Huge bones scattered out in the wilderness, and I mean _huge_. Bigger than leviathans, nobody knows what left them… but it’s the wolves and the gutters that rule the plains. At least until a leviathan comes along.”

He paused for theatrical effect, knowing she was listening. Already that childhood world was beginning to emerge out of the dust of his memory, as vivid as anything in their immediate surroundings. “Leviathans are peaceful creatures, if you don’t piss them off. But that fight was something else. Surrounded by gutters, the most dangerous thing a lone wanderer can come up against, and it scattered them across the plains. And that beautiful mountain of a creature just moved right on past, as if nothing had ever gotten in its way.”

The corner of her mouth tilted slightly. Luquin decided to embellish the story a little. “We were farmers, you know, before our business collapsed. Hard work, being farmers on the Bonefields, but we scraped by. The gutters were always causing problems for us… we had to have lookouts stationed on the roofs, as an early warning system for the people working the fields. We’d have to flee indoors at least a few times a day. But that big old thing, it wiped out the nearby gutter nest for us. And you know what? I think it knew it did us a favour.”

Was that the beginnings of an incredulous smile? He pressed on. “It came back. I used to sleep on the roof, and one night I woke up to the ground shaking. I got up, and there it was, right beside our little house. Thought it might be about to knock the house down, so I was pretty scared. But then… an amazing thing happened. It looked at me, and it turned away, and didn’t even trample the crops on its way past. Like it had paid a visit.”

It was a story. A pretty story, but a story nonetheless. Luquin suspected Ruka knew it was largely fabricated bullshit. It had still done the trick, and when she looked up at him from her curled-up position on the floor, her resignation had been joined by just that little bit of interest. Of course she liked stories. Shek culture was based off the great tales of their ancestral deeds. “One day I’ll show you the farm,” he said.

“I’d like that,” she rasped. “Lu.”

He smiled, but the smile was short-lived. Someone was coming to their cell block. The thumping boots and the swaggering footsteps always boded ill. “Sounds like we’ve got some company again.”

Their company was none other than the Warden. He was dragging a prisoner by the scruff of the neck, his long fingers digging into her tangled hair. Ruka audibly gasped. The Warden forced the prisoner to the ground in front of Ruka’s cage – an easy feat, since she barely seemed able to support her own body weight – and leered at Ruka through the bars. “Unfortunately for yourselves, you’re both still alive. I think Ava here rather misses you, you know.”

Luquin hadn’t even realised it was Ava. Her face was caked in dirt and dried blood and her hair had matted itself into clumps. He’d gotten a brief glimpse of her eyes, just as dead as Ruka’s. She made no attempt to move on her own, and any motions she _did_ make were purely responsive to being pushed and shoved and prodded by the Warden. Apart from her breathing, which was shallow and fast, she was as limp and glazed as a doll.

“Ava.” Her name came out as a sob. Luquin had never heard Ruka sob before.

“I wish she had killed you.” Ava’s voice faded in and out. “For your own sake…”

The Warden released his grip. She fell face forward, slumping into the bars. Ruka’s hands stretched out for a second, then fell weakly to the ground. She couldn’t touch her, even though she was right in front of her. But she longed to, and that longing was agony even to Luquin. “What have they been doing to you?”

What _hadn’t_ they been doing, was surely the more pertinent question. Luquin could tell a lot about the torture methods that had been inflicted on a prisoner and where, just from the victim’s posture and the ways in which they flinched from the guards. _Shit, some of that must have done some permanent damage._ “Don’t… don’t worry…”

“Oh, but she does. Can’t you see it?” The Warden twisted Ava’s elbow sharply, jerking the cuffs. As Ava cried out, he added, “And if she _isn’t_ worried yet, we can _give_ her something to worry about. Can’t we?”

Luquin couldn’t see what the Warden did next, but Ava’s response was a second, far louder scream. Her body was shaking, her bones rattling. Ruka screamed too, fighting her own wasted muscles in an effort to reach her. “Don’t hurt her! Take me, torture me instead… just leave her, please…”

“If that’s what you want,” the Warden said delightedly, as Ava whimpered and shook her head. “Sound like a trade, Ava? One scumbag terrorist for another. I’ll even let you watch.”

“You know, Warden,” Luquin pointed out, “it’s generally considered poor manners to play with your food.”

The Warden half-turned, dragging Ava with him. Luquin’s guts twisted with pity when he saw the full extent of the state she was in. The skin around her eyesockets was stretched tight, and tear tracks streaked the grime on her cheeks. Her hands were swollen, or perhaps her wrists had just become that skinny; either way, her fingers looked disjointed, the nails torn at the tips. There was a pattern of bruises around the handcuffs, visible even through the dirt, and old blood had crusted against the metal. She did not look well, either; Luquin suspected an infection had taken hold. “Don’t you ever get bored of tormenting people who are weak and hungry and chained up?”

“Oh, Luquin. Have you finally developed a conscience?”

He’d always had one; it had just been prudent to hide it. Luquin shrugged. “Guess I’m one stage closer to being a decent person than you are.”

“A decent person, hm? Perhaps you’re volunteering to take Ava’s place.”

“I mean…” Luquin wondered if he was really going to do this, then thought, _fuck it._ He spread his hands as best he could. “It _has_ been a while. And it must be more fun to inflict pain on someone you haven’t tortured for a while, than someone who’s gotten used to it. Right?”

“Are you mad?” Ruka whispered, but Luquin ignored her. He didn’t want to think about the answer to that question.

“I suppose we could bring a little spice to the table.” The Warden’s fingers clawed at Ava’s chin. “She doesn’t seem to want to swap places with Ruka, but maybe she’d be happy to let a stranger take the punishment.”

“You _are_ a sick bastard,” Luquin said, his mind racing with all the creative ways the Warden would make him pay for protecting Ava and Ruka. “Believe me, even after fifteen years in this box, I still dream about shoving a sword through that blackened heart of yours.”

More guards arrived, dragging Luquin from his cage. Luquin smiled with a humour that he did not feel. “You’ve missed this. Our little one-to-ones.”

“Enough stalling, Luquin. Get moving.”

Ruka was watching proceedings from behind the bars of her cage. They briefly made eye contact, her dark eyes boring into his with a fresh intensity. Luquin saw her incline her head very slightly.

“Look after the place while I’m gone, soldier,” he said.

By the time he came to regret his decision, the guards had already steered him away.

* * *

Even before she’d lost her leg, Marisa had never slept so well as she did in Lord Aramid’s house. Upon waking, the realisation surprised her; she had spent half the night awake, with the fiery stump screaming at her. When she pushed the heavy coverlet away from her shoulders and sat up, she saw that her hands were shaking again. She needed tinctures. Needed, and did not have, not since Lord Aramid had taken the precious little bottles away from her.

But the bed was comfortable.

Marisa made a fist and plunged it into the pillow she’d been lying on. It folded around her hand, burying it up to the wrist. It had done that when she’d laid her head down the night before, covering her ears and blocking out the snores coming from behind the screens. She was sure she’d dreamed that she was sinking, but in a peaceful way.

Cassie was fast asleep, curled on a tucked-away mat that Marisa hadn’t previously noticed. Maybe it was Marisa’s imagination, but her face looked a little less pinched and miserable. _I suppose I’d be relieved to be away from Lady Sanda too, if she’d torn out my tongue._

Away from Lady Sanda… Marisa shivered. This wasn’t some nice city break. Assuming Lady Sanda wasn’t playing games, their separation was a permanent one. She’d never see Bark again, nor the deep orange sands or the sea. Her life was now in the capital, with a whole host of different rules to learn and different dangers to be mindful of. She wondered why it did not bother her as much as it should.

_Lady Sanda never let me sleep in a bed like this._

Someone, possibly Lord Aramid, had left a pair of crutches propped up against the side of the bed while she’d been sleeping. Marisa leaned over to pick one up. It was made of wood, not metal; a rare substance so far from the big trees of the grasslands. She turned it over in her hands. Nothing particularly fancy or special about them – they were designed to be functional, after all – but still a world away from the ugly, unwieldy poles Lady Sanda had set aside for her previous use.

If he’d left her a pair of crutches, had he left her anything else? She scanned the little sleeping-area to see what else had changed. Not much, except… There was a pile of clothes folded up on a little box by the screen. Marisa, who’d fallen asleep half in and half out of her guard uniform, grabbed the crutch and went to investigate.

The clothes were hardly silk, but they were still made of a softer fabric than anything Marisa was used to, and in richer colours, too. A loose tunic that came almost to the knee, a pair of cotton trousers that she’d need to knot around the stump, and a single sandal. Part of her wanted to wake Cassie and ask her to help with dressing, but stubborn independence won out, and she struggled into the outfit that had been laid out for her.

It was daytime, though Marisa couldn’t tell exactly what time it was. Noon, she guessed, judging by the temperature. Soft sunlight filtered through the veils that covered the high windows, and little specks of dust danced in the air. She left Cassie asleep behind the screen and moved one-legged to the next room. Lord Aramid was sitting at a table, eating with one hand and holding a book in the other. “Ah, Marisa. You’ve woken up, I see.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Slept well?”

She nodded. Lord Aramid put the book down. “I’m sure you’re very confused.”

 _Confused_ was one word for it. Realising he was beckoning her to sit, Marisa sat at the table and tried to balance the crutches. Lord Aramid pushed a bowl of something across the table towards her. “Eat that.”

Marisa ate. It was something cactus-based, not the most inspiring of dishes, but surprisingly filling. “My lord, where are your guards?”

“Oh, they’re around. I prefer not to keep them too visible.”

Marisa found herself looking up to where the roof was. Lord Aramid noticed, and chuckled, as if she was checking for guards up in the ceiling-beams. “I just find it off-putting, people breathing down my neck all the time. I suppose many nobles prefer knowing they have a loyal entourage nearby, should anything go wrong.”

“It’s a dangerous world, my lord,” Marisa said carefully. “They fear assassination…”

“Truly a different world from that of the Okranites.” Lord Aramid indicated his book. “Are you a reader?”

“Not really, my lord.” There had never been time for books when there were duties to be performed.

“But you _can_ read.” It was not a question. He’d seen her reading Lady Sanda’s contract. “Here, take this one. If you don’t like it, there are plenty more on my bookshelves.”

She peered at the leather-bound volume for a moment, running her finger over the gilded inscription on the cover, then opened it up. “Tales from the river-lands?”

“Children’s stories, really, but it’s good to stay in touch with one’s home culture. If you were ever interested in the Okranite faith, it’s a simple starting point. If not… well, they’d just be stories like any others, wouldn’t they?”

Marisa turned a page. The little black words did not endear themselves to her. “Why would people spend their time reading these, if they aren’t real?”

“A host of reasons. Entertainment. Escapism. An attempt to grasp a deeper truth.”

Marisa slowly closed the book. “Lord Ohta said you were a slave-owner.”

“Ah. I see you were paying attention in the assembly. But you’d be wrong.” He leaned forward, fixing her with an oddly intense look. “Why do you think I let _you_ keep Cassie? As Lord Ohta also implied, ownership of slaves is not something my faith permits.”

“Then…”

“I simply traded them. From here as far south as Eyesocket. After a little while, your empire grows enough that you can hire others to do the dirty work for you. A few years down the line and the nobles let me join their ranks.” He smiled. “And as you can see, I was considered important enough to secure a spot in the emperor’s summit.”

“I see, my lord.”

“Which is where _you_ came in. You know, Marisa, you’re a curious individual. Not many guards are loyal enough to stick with their noble after losing their leg… don’t look so surprised. A smart noble has more than one set of eyes, and more than one set of ears. I know you lost your leg protecting Lady Sanda when she wanted to have a little fun with the populace, and I know she gave you that shoddy leg and sent you off into the desert to capture the very same person who’d saved your life.” He paused. “Must have been a difficult thing to do, no?”

“My lord,” she stammered, “I had to follow orders.”

“Did you? You were out on the sands with… two mercenaries, was it? I don’t think it would have been so difficult for you to head off for pastures new. Yet you persevered and, against all the odds, managed to capture two of the people responsible for the death of Slave Master Haga and the destruction of the stone camp. Rather impressive.”

She drew back, her skin tingling under the loose cotton of the tunic. “Lady Sanda asked me to, so I did.”

“I’m not denying that. I just find it fascinating, the extent of some people’s loyalty.”

His expression was giving nothing away. Marisa chose to stay silent. If she spoke, there was every chance her tongue would give the wrong answer. The cactus pulp sat like heavy stodge in her stomach.

“Did Lady Sanda ever give you any credit for your intelligence?” he said finally.

Marisa wrinkled her nose. “Intelligence?”

“You’re sitting here in fine clothes, having slept in a comfortable bed and eaten well. Lady Sanda has removed herself from the picture. You have the perfect opportunity to either gush about how loyal you are and how much you loved Lady Sanda, or how awful it was being her guard and how glad you are to see the back of her. Yet you’ve done neither. That’s intelligence, wisdom, whatever you wish to call it. But set that aside for a moment. If you’d had a _real_ choice, to capture Ava and return to Lady Sanda, or to blaze your own trail, what would you have done?”

“I don’t know, my lord.”

“I think you do, but you don’t want to tell me the answer.” His brow suddenly creased. “Why did you flinch?” he said.

“My – my lord?”

“You flinched. As if you were afraid I was about to hit you. _Are_ you afraid I’ll hit you?”

“My lord, if I’m displeasing you, please do as you see fit.”

He sighed. “Lady Sanda’s had you cowering like a dog for however many years she’s had you in her employ. Hasn’t she? I don’t strike my guards or my servants, Marisa. I want them to speak with me freely. It is rather in my interests to address grievances before they turn into something more dangerous. So, be honest with me and I’ll be honest with you. Do you regret anything that happened in the desert?”

“Yes, my lord.” She should never have approached the patrol at Okran’s Shield; if she’d just stayed away, maybe she’d still be with Lady Sanda and not playing this dangerous question-and-answer game with a noble.

“Now we’re getting somewhere. So, answer this question and I will answer one of yours in return. Say you were treated well here, given a role that better suits that smart head of yours. Would you still want to go home and serve Lady Sanda?”

“I…”

“Don’t you have your own questions for me, Marisa?”

“Lady Sanda gave me in service to you,” she blurted out, “and my duties and my loyalties are one and the same.”

“A cautiously worded answer, but a revealing one nonetheless. Very good.”

“My lord, I have a question,” she said more boldly than she felt.

“Hmm? Go on, then.”

“Can I trust you?”

“Oh.” His eyes widened. “That’s a very smart question. And the short answer is no. But then, could you ever trust any noble? Go on, go and rest. I’ll bring you some more books, if my stories are not to your liking. Are you in much pain?”

“A little, my lord.”

“I’ll find you a topical medicine for the wound. Something to help, that you hopefully won’t become addicted to.”

“But my lord, I haven’t done any work for you yet.”

“My dear girl, consider it an investment.”

 _Investment._ She puzzled over that for the remainder of the afternoon, as Cassie slept and she attempted to busy herself with books. Lord Aramid had provided her with rather a selection, mostly connected to the Okranite faith. She wondered how someone so spiritually minded had been so happy to recruit a young woman with a Skeleton limb… not that she had it with her at the moment. Maybe he had destroyed it, she thought with a shudder.

Cassie woke up as the light was dwindling. She sat up with a surprised expression, as if she had completely forgotten the events of the previous night. Then she saw Marisa, and smiled a little. Her smile was more a tug of the lips than anything else, with none of her teeth showing. But she did stand up and point quizzically to the stump of Marisa’s leg. Marisa had reapplied the bandages and a healthy dose of numbing ointment, but it was still not healing properly.

“It feels fine,” Marisa lied. “Hey, Cassie…”

She looked up.

“I’m sorry for what Lady Sanda did to you.”

 _Not your fault,_ her eyes seemed to say, but Marisa wasn’t sure if she was just reading what she wanted to read. “Look, I don’t know if I have use for a slave. I know I said yes when Lord Aramid offered. But I’ve never needed one before. So I guess what I’m saying is… I can free you, if that helps any.”

Cassie shook her head, indicated her skinny frame, then pointed to her mouth. Marisa thought she understood. People did not set their slaves free, and even if Cassie hadn’t been so obviously a slave, being poor and underfed in the United Cities was asking to be arrested and enslaved again. Besides, she was mute. She would never be able to get by in the free world.

“Well,” Marisa said a little desperately, “just because you’re a slave, it doesn’t mean I need to treat you like one, right? Give me your hands.”

She took the shackles off. Judging by Cassie’s reaction, Marisa wondered if she was really thinking as clearly as she thought she was. Maybe it was a symptom of the withdrawals. “Don’t give me that look. I’m just sick of you clanking those chains about while I’m trying to concentrate. Sit quietly over there, or something.”

Cassie sat, but she did not take her eyes off Marisa the whole time Marisa was reading, and it was seriously off-putting. When she realised she could ignore her no longer, Marisa threw the book down and stared at her. “ _What_?”

Cassie hastily averted her gaze. A thought suddenly stirred in Marisa’s mind, an unwelcome one. _Is this how I looked to Lady Sanda?_ _A weak, timid thing who was terrified of angering her mistress?_ “I can’t focus on anything if you’re just going to watch me all the time.” She hesitated as her own stomach rumbled; that bowl of mushy cactus pulp had not lasted her. “Are you hungry?”

She nodded. Marisa sighed and picked up her crutches. “OK. I suppose we could speak to the staff and find out how things work around here.”

But Lord Aramid’s servants, like his guards, were very good at staying out of the way. Marisa supposed the size of the house, with its many curtains and screens, lent itself well to people staying unseen. She thought back to what Lord Aramid had said about nobles having more than one set of eyes and more than one set of ears. She rather suspected he had a few sets lurking behind the curtains. Cassie seemed to think so too, because she was taking great care to keep away from the edges of the room, and jumped with every little noise.

“Come on,” Marisa said, “let’s see if we can find someone.”

An assassin would not have found Lord Aramid’s house an easy place to navigate. The curtains were thick and heavy, like walls themselves, and immovable. Marisa studied them and concluded they could only be bypassed if someone was determined enough to get down on their belly and wriggle underneath. They felt far more suffocating than the light silk veils that had fluttered in the palace. Cassie found her courage and went up to the curtains, prodding them in search of a passage into the next room.

“There must be a way through,” Marisa muttered. “Didn’t he just push the curtains back?”

Cassie took a step back, eyeing up the embroidery, then stuck her hand through it. The curtain parted, revealing another room behind it. It was a small room, almost as small as Marisa’s sleeping area, and had no furniture except a low stone table and a rug that had been spread out in front of it. The table was empty apart from a single bowl that had been filled with a fragrant oil and set on fire. Utterly mystified, she watched as the flames flickered and danced up against the stone wall just behind it. “What’s this room used for?”

Cassie clasped her hands together and raised her eyes to the ceiling.

“Oh, right. Praying. Okranite. Got it.”

She’d never really thought about the Okranite faith. Many in the United Cities _believed_ in Okran, of course, but they did not tend to worship him. Worship was best left to the Holy Nation, who were not a people any self-respecting imperial wanted to emulate. Seeing Ava praying had been bizarre and a little uncomfortable, just as this room felt like a private space she was intruding on. She took her sandal off the prayer mat, realising she was standing on it. “Well, there’s no-one in here. Maybe we should go and sit in the main room. I don’t really want to poke around a noble’s house.”

The lack of people was disconcerting, to say the least. Back when Marisa had been new to Lady Sanda’s noble guard, she’d been under constant supervision. Even as she’d gained experience and Lady Sanda’s trust, she’d never been left alone like this before. She was glad Cassie was with her, even if her presence was a silent one. _Why has Lord Aramid just left us here? Does he expect one of us to do something? And if so, what?_

She was so busy pondering that she didn’t immediately notice Cassie had tensed up. It was only when the girl tapped her on the arm that she realised they were no longer alone in the room. She span around so fast she almost fell off her seat. “My lord.”

“Marisa. And Cassie. I take it you have rested well.”

Marisa nodded. She wanted to ask where he’d been all afternoon, but knew she had no business doing so. A pair of servants, Greenlanders dressed in simple plain clothes, entered the room behind Lord Aramid and busied themselves with setting the table.

“I realise it must be rather boring, sitting around with nothing to do but read those dusty old books.”

“Not at all, my lord.”

“You need to learn to lie better,” he said.

More servants came out with steaming plates of food. Marisa blushed as one of them was set down on the table in front of her. She wondered if Lord Aramid knew she wasn’t used to being waited on hand and foot. Cassie, meanwhile, was frowning intently at Lord Aramid’s plate, which was piled with cooked greenfruit and a few choice cuts of meat. Marisa kicked her with the toe of her sandal.

“ _Cassie_.”

Cassie shot a quick look at Marisa, her eyes wide. Her lips moved, framing a word, but Marisa could not work out what she was trying to say. Marisa opted to ignore her, staring fixedly at the other plates the servants were bringing in.

“A drink?” Lord Aramid asked her.

The strange, deep red concoction he poured for her was very sweet and did not taste alcoholic. She offered some to Cassie, but Cassie shook her head, looking agitated. Lord Aramid raised an eyebrow in her direction. “You took the shackles off.”

“Yes, my lord,” Marisa mumbled.

“That was kind of you.”

Even though she was eating and drinking as though she were a noble herself, she was not sure she liked this new arrangement. With Lady Sanda, there had always been certainty; Lord Aramid did not seem to play by the nobles’ rules, and his dispassionate comments on her actions made her feel like he was appraising her somehow. “Have I done wrong, my lord?”

“Am I to judge what another does with their slave?” He picked up another jug and poured himself a glass of water. “Now, Marisa, tell me something about your life before you came to Heft. What is Bark like? I’ve never been.”

“It’s not like here,” she said carefully. “It’s smaller, for one thing. And there’s the sea… there are swamp-houses along the shoreline. You know, the ones on stilts. The people who live in those houses come out at daybreak with their nets and cast them out into the sea, and catch fish.”

“A fishing town, then?”

“I suppose so.” The reek of fish had never quite reached the noble-house from the sea-nets. “I think there might be some cactus farms a little further north, but I’ve never been up that way.”

“I see. And forgive me… your parents were farmers? Fish-catchers?”

“Oh… I don’t actually know, my lord. I was given to the training barracks at such a young age. I don’t remember them.”

“Criminals, then,” he said. “Or peasants that were too poor to be able to support their daughter… one and the same in imperial society. It’s rare you’ll find a family that gives up one of their own out of choice.” He drank water. “You don’t look offended.”

“Because it’s probably true, my lord.”

“Hmm.” He set the cup down and closed his eyes. It took Marisa a second or so to realise he was praying. Cassie took advantage of Lord Aramid’s distraction to jab her finger in the direction of his plate.

“Cassie, behave,” Marisa hissed; her plate was not piled quite as high as Lord Aramid’s either, but she wasn’t about to make a fuss about it. “Sit quietly before you embarrass both of us.”

“Something the matter?” Lord Aramid had just finished his prayer. He reached for his eating utensils and began to cut into his meat. But before he could eat any of it, Cassie shot to her feet. With a sudden and perfectly timed movement, she swept the entire plate off the table, smashing it into pieces on the ground and scattering Lord Aramid’s dinner, with all its cooking juices, across the expensive embroidered rugs. The silence that followed was like a pair of cold, icy hands closing in around Marisa’s throat.

 _We’re going to die,_ she thought with the utmost certainty. One did not knock a noble lord’s dinner on the floor and expect to live.

“My lord,” she whispered through a tightly constricting throat, “I didn’t tell her to do that.”

Lord Aramid looked down at Cassie, who’d fallen to her knees on the rug. She was holding a chunk of steak in her hand, her eyes pleading. “Cassie?”

With a very deliberate move that was impossible for either of them to misinterpret, Cassie drew a finger across her throat. Marisa gasped, but Lord Aramid appeared utterly unaffected. Almost bored, in fact, like this was the sort of occurrence that happened to him at least once a week. “Give that to me,” he said.

Trembling, Cassie handed it over. Lord Aramid took the slippery, bloody piece of steak in his fingers and dropped it into the water jug. “Look at this, Marisa,” he said. “Tell me what you see.”

Marisa peered into the glass of the jug. An ink-like substance was rising up from the steak, swirling in a spiral towards the surface. “The water’s changing colour,” she said. “It’s turning black.”

“Quite so. And what do you think might have caused this?”

“Poison,” she guessed.

He nodded grimly. “Guards!”

Marisa wasn’t sure where the guards had come from, or how they had moved so quickly, but they were there in an instant. She looked at their dark clothes and masked faces and thought, _Ninjas. This man has ninja guards._ To her mind, Lord Aramid had just become that little bit more dangerous.

“My lord, what would you like us to do?” one of them said.

“Detain those who prepared this meal, and those who served it. I want all of them questioned.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Lord Aramid’s attention was now firmly back on Cassie. “How did you know?” he asked.

She put her hands to her nose, indicating a wafting smell. Lord Aramid smiled; then his smile became a chuckle, and finally a full belly laugh. “You recognise the scent,” he said. “Well, as they say, every slave has a backstory. And that, I suppose, is a hint for me to go a little easier on the lavender water. Marisa, I advise you leave your food as well. I doubt it’s been deliberately poisoned, but we can’t rule out contamination.”

“Who could have done this, my lord?” Marisa quavered.

“Unfortunately, the list of suspects is a long one. But I have some idea.” Marisa waited, but Lord Aramid did not elaborate. “Perhaps this is a good time to discuss why I was so interested to have you work for me.”

“My lord?”

“You’re a smart woman, Marisa. Smart _and_ cautious. Smart and cautious makes for a good combination in a place like this. And while I have eyes and ears open all across the city, it pays to have someone in my close household who _also_ provides a pair of eyes and ears. A pair of legs would have been useful too, but we can’t always have everything in life. So, here’s what I’d like you to do. I spend rather a lot of time with other nobles, and with Tengu wanting me in the Inner Circle, the amount of time I’ll be spending in the palace is going to double. I want someone who can gather intelligence for me, the sorts of things regular people overlook. Is someone wearing a different hat from the one they wore yesterday? Are they avoiding the sake at the party? Are their guards drinking too much of it? Ingratiate yourself with them. Ask the right questions, but carefully. And feed back everything you’ve learned to me.”

“My lord… you’re asking me to be a spy?” She was getting entwined with dangerous business, and a fresh flood of fear left her insides ice cold. “But someone might get suspicious. What then?”

“You’re quite right,” he said. “They might. Which is why we’ll start small. Little by little, I’ll introduce you to life at court. I’ll teach you what I know – all the dirty little secrets the nobles keep among themselves. You see, Marisa, politics is a dance. Once you’ve mastered the steps, you can sweep the other dancers off their feet. Whether literally or figuratively.” He glanced at Cassie. “You can get up now, Cassie. I’m not going to punish you.”

“But – but my lord. How do you know you can trust me?” Marisa would never have dared ask Lady Sanda that question, but she suspected Lord Aramid had been waiting for it. “I worked for another noble, before I came to you. I’ve only been in your house for about a day. What’s to say I wouldn’t use all this knowledge against you?”

“Well, that’s certainly a risk,” he said, “but one I’ve calculated. You said yourself that your duties and your loyalties were one and the same. Whatever your flaws may be, you seem to have a sense of honour. Lady Sanda treated you like a disposable piece of filth, just as most nobles would. Yet… you remained loyal to her. There’s something to be said for that. Not to mention the other thing…”

“Yes, my lord?”

“You act shiftier than a bugman merchant when you’re trying to lie.”

She blushed. “Oh.”

“Like I said, we’ll work on that skill. Now, I believe I have some staff to question.” He stepped delicately over the mess Cassie had made, and pushed back the curtain. For a moment he stopped and looked back, taking in Cassie’s pale, frightened face and Marisa’s worried one. “Don’t drink that water, by the way.” And with that, he was gone.

“Shit, Cassie,” Marisa murmured, watching the curtain fall back into place, “what have we gotten ourselves into?”

The water in the jug had settled into a uniform blackness. Marisa did not believe in omens, but she didn’t need to; the sour, unpleasant, now-all-too-detectable smell rising from the jug was no omen. It was a threat, and a very clear and present one.

“This is a dangerous place,” she said.

Cassie just nodded in agreement.


	9. Headquarters

“So explain to me what happened,” Moll said.

At her words, all the pairs of eyes in the headquarters turned towards the three Shek. Jared was looking stubborn, Spade shamefaced. Rei had sunk into her chair, scratching her roughened fingernails against the wood of the meeting-table. They all seemed to be doing their utmost to avoid answering Moll’s question. Since she was sitting opposite Spade, and Spade looked the most guilty out of the three of them, Kat shot her what she hoped was a piercing glare. Spade looked down, as if taken by a sudden desire to study the table.

“Because from what Daria’s told me,” Moll continued, “the three of you assaulted her.”

“The three of us did _not_ ,” Rei said indignantly.

“Is that so, Rei?” It was obvious she part-timed as a teacher; Kat could sense that gentle yet firm disapproval in her line of questioning. “Would _you_ care to give _your_ side of the story?”

Kat did not miss the sudden warning glare that Jared shot Rei, even if Rei did. “We were minding our own business,” she said, “and she came up to us and started insulting us.”

“The three of them were drunk, by all accounts.” Yayoi, who’d been lurking at the side of the room for some time, stepped out of the shadows with folded arms. “Wherever you got that alcohol from…”

She was right, and Kat hated it. Jared was flinching from loud noises, and Spade hadn’t stopped clutching her head since they’d all been dragged before Moll. Rei was looking a little worse for wear, but then, she’d had a tough few days. She didn’t appear to be nearly so hungover as the twins. Right now, she was staring up at Moll with a petulant expression. “This isn’t _fair_.”

“Nothing is _fair_ , Rei, and I’d have thought you’d know that by now.” Yayoi went to stand by Moll. “Personally? I don’t care who was responsible for what happened, I don’t care if you were provoked. What I _do_ care about is that half of Daria’s congregation has been complaining to Moll about the three of you. If this is the way you want to behave when you’re guests in someone’s village, you can be guests somewhere else.”

Kat stared at Lekko. The sudden horror on her face was a pretty accurate reflection of how she was feeling. “But – we don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Of course you do. Go to the fishing village on the Northern Coast. There are plenty of villages on the west coast of Dreg, too. Or go to the Shek Kingdom, or the Swamp… shit, you can go and find that legendary city in the Fog Islands for all I care. The point is, Flotsam is _not_ the only place you can stay hidden from the empire, and quite frankly, we have enough of our own problems without you adding to the pile.” Her eyes moved to where Kat and Lekko were sitting. “On the other hand, _you_ two don’t seem to have caused us any problems, so if you want to stay—”

“Hey!” Rei said loudly, as the twins winced. “So this _is_ because we’re _darkened beasts_.”

“No,” Yayoi snapped, “it’s because the three of you are liabilities. And, for the record, if you’d paid _any_ attention when we went up to World’s End, you’d have seen a number of the Ninjas who came with us were, in fact, Shek. It’s not _Shek_ the villagers object to. It’s troublemakers.” Spade tried to stand up at that, but Jared and Rei pulled her back down. “And I think you’ve just proven my point, don’t you?”

“Fuck you,” Spade snarled at her.

Moll laid her hand in the small of Yayoi’s back. “That’s enough. Rei, Spade, Jared. I think you three need to have a conversation with your friends. We’ll give you all some time to decide how you’d like to proceed with this.”

They filed out of the Flotsam headquarters in sullen silence. It was only when they were outside that Kat rounded on Rei and the twins.

“Well, this is is fucking brilliant. Weren’t we supposed to be keeping our heads down and fitting in with the villagers? Now look at what’s happened. You attacked a fucking _priest_.”

“Let’s have this conversation away from the headquarters,” Lekko suggested.

“I knew we had issues, but I didn’t know we had them bad enough to just _punch_ people who pissed us off,” Kat seethed as they walked. “She didn’t use her sword, she just said some things you didn’t like, and you had to go and hit her and get us thrown out of the village.”

“Says the Scorchlander!” Rei snapped. “Kat, I’m sorry, but you don’t get a say in this. _She_ might have just used words, but what about the rest of the fucking Okranites? What she thinks – that’s what all the paladins think too, that’s what everyone from their twisted religion thinks. And do you know how that ends? With our kind being hated and shackled and murdered and everyone thinks that’s the way things have to be, because according to their faith, we can be _rebirthed_ into _pure children of Okran_.”

“Do you think I don’t have a problem with Okranites?” Kat demanded. “The ones in the Holy Nation did _this_ to my face, if you’d forgotten.” She pointed to her cheek. “But the ones in this village were our allies.”

“Some allies,” Jared said. “They disrespected the Tech Hunters, too.”

Kat stopped walking so suddenly Lekko walked right into her. “So _that’s_ what this is about,” she said quietly. “So which of you two did it?”

Shifty looks from the twins. Kat realised she no longer had the capacity to care. “OK, whatever. You can protect each other if you want, I guess that’s kind of commendable. But if you’re just gonna get us in trouble, we don’t need you.”

“Kat!” Lekko said.

“Lekko, I’m tired of this.”

Jared had turned pale, and it wasn’t just from the hangover. “You lose us, you lose our swords.”

“ _We’re_ welcome to stay. We don’t need swords right now… and if we do end up needing them, I’m sure there are people here we can recruit to come with us.”

“Have you forgotten Rei’s no longer welcome in the village, either?” he said.

The adrenaline rush had completely wiped that from Kat’s mind. As she was struggling through her tangled mind, trying to think up a solution, Lekko wrapped an arm around her shoulders and started pulling her away.

“Lekko!”

“This is not a time to be burning bridges or making rash decisions. Come with me.”

She couldn’t really argue; Lekko was a small woman, but still bigger than her. They climbed the steps onto a deserted bit of wall and sat down on the walkway with their legs hanging over the edge. Kat scowled at the trees that lined the ridge of the nearby crag, just on the other side of the wall. “Well, what we are supposed to do?”

“We’ll work something out. We have some time.”

“Do you think Moll will change her mind? _She_ didn’t seem like she really wanted to see us go.”

Lekko sighed. “No, I don’t think so. I think she’ll listen to Yayoi.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You saw the way Moll touched her, didn’t you?”

“Oh. _Oh._ ”

“Exactly.”

The breeze blowing in from over the crag was cold and damp. Kat shivered and clung to the railing. “We’re not going to be staying here, are we?” she said quietly.

“Well, think of it this way… would you want to be here without Rei?”

As annoyed as Kat was with the twins, she knew that Rei needed to stay with a full group. “What do we do? Where do we go from here?”

“Dreg isn’t too bad. A bit too much acid rain for my liking, and the Deadhive…” Lekko shuddered. “The Deadhive are a threat. It’s still safer than Vain. No gutters to contend with.”

“What do you think about trying to get to the Shek Kingdom?”

Lekko’s mouth twisted. “Probably not the best idea. You remember the argument it caused.”

“But it’s gonna be safer than Dreg, right?”

“We still have to get there.”

Kat thought about it for a moment. “Well, the patrols tend to keep to the roads, right? If we cut across the countryside, it might be OK.”

“The horribly exposed countryside, where everyone and everything can see us for miles around? Look, I’ve _been_ to the Holy Nation. It’s not a comfortable place, and I’m a human. Imagine what it’ll be like if we have three Shek and a girl with a slave-mark branded into her face.”

“I still want to save them.”

“Your friends? Kat, you _know_ _—_ ”

“I know we’re probably not going to succeed.” Kat scrunched up her toes on the sharp metal edge of the walkway and tried not to cry. “But… I want to know that I tried everything. I don’t want to live out my days in some tiny little village, Lekko. I don’t want to run and hide like a child when things go wrong.”

“Survival isn’t the same as cowardice.” But Lekko reached over and gave her hand a squeeze all the same. “We’ll talk to the others. Pia, if she wants to come with us. And Rei and the twins.”

“OK.”

“And Kat, I know you’d probably never do this, but… what happened with the twins just now. Make sure you don’t force Rei to choose between you and Jared. It isn’t fair.”

“I know.”

“You and Jared don’t have to like each other, but try and get along. For Rei’s sake.”

“I don’t have a problem with Jared!”

To Kat’s relief, Lekko changed the subject. “If we do go as far south as the Shek Kingdom, do you think you’d be tempted to go back to the swamps? I know you said you didn’t have family there—”

“I can’t go back,” she said.

“Must be painful.” Lekko’s voice was sympathetic. “Going to a place and knowing the people you associated with it aren’t there.”

“No, that isn’t why.” The trees blurred for a second. “I mean, I guess that’s true, as well. But if I went back, I’d be in danger. It was the swamp-gangs that killed my family, you know.”

“Oh, Kat, I should have realised.”

“My parents owed the Twinblades money, and they died because of it. Me and my gran, we were always kind of poor because the Twinblades demanded so much of our income and the Stone Rats demanded most of the rest of it for like, protection from the other gangs and stuff. That’s just the way things work in the Swamp. But then… something changed. _I_ changed it.” She hesitated and looked back at Lekko. She’d been expecting some kind of hardness or judgement in her eyes, but to her surprise she saw only understanding. For a second she faltered, wondering if she could somehow tell Lekko what she had kept even from Ruka. “I don’t want… I don’t want you to see me differently.”

Lekko smiled sadly. “No-one has a squeaky-clean past, Kat. We’ve all done things we regret… some of us more so than others.”

“Well…” Kat wrapped her arms around her knees and tucked her chin on top of them. “Things were pretty much OK for my whole childhood, aside from the fact my gran raised me on her own. Oh, Longstoat helped, coz he’d been good friends with my parents, but it was mainly my gran.”

“Longstoat?”

“He took me to the desert. The skimmers killed him.”

“Fucking skimmers.” Lekko’s voice was suddenly bitter. “Sorry, carry on.”

“Well, uh… we were poor, but we kind of managed even with the gangs extorting cats out of us all the time. We made enough to cover it, with the fish and hash my gran sold from our house. We caught the fish ourselves, you know,” she added proudly. “I was the one who put out the nets and then I’d bring ’em in twice a day… anyway, one day as I was out with the nets, I realised one of the entrances to the town was unguarded.”

“Oh, crap.” Lekko’s eyes widened. “I’ve never been to Shark, but I’ve been into the Swamp before now. Isn’t it full of blood spiders?”

“Yeah. We have a turret in case they go too near the house… or had. I saw people and I thought they were guards, but they were Stone Rats. The protection racketeers. They had something in a sack. And they were coming into town with like a bunch of swamp raptors following them.”

Lekko blinked. “ _What_ following them?”

“Swamp raptors. You know. Big ugly things, with the…” Unable to think of the word, Kat mimed a large, swollen dewlap. “And the spikes on their backs.”

“Oh. _Oh._ Sorry. I couldn’t understand what you were saying. You went _really_ strong swamp-lander for a second there.”

“Sorry.”

Lekko squeezed Kat’s hand again. “If it’s too emotional to talk about, we can change the subject.”

“It’s not emotional.” But Kat clung to Lekko’s hand before she could take it away. “I think there was a nest right outside Shark coz they were always trying to get into town. Only we’d searched and couldn’t ever find the nest. Anyway, at first I thought they were being chased, but the swamp raptors ain’t that fast, and the Stone Rats were like, proper looking around and being dodgy about it even as they were hurrying away. So I went to see where they were going, and then I realised. They were going towards the grimmies…”

“The _what_?”

“Uh – hemp fields.”

“Hemp fields?”

“Yeah. Where d’you think we get the hash?”

“In the _swamps_?”

“Yeah, there’s a trick to it, apparently.”

“I’m sure there is.”

“So I realised that what they were doing was really bad news, coz the grim – uh, the hemp fields, they’re owned by the Hounds. And the Hounds are the big guys in the Swamp. They’ve always been the ones that kind of… I dunno, run the show. You don’t piss off the Hounds. And it’s always been a bit tense with all the different gangs, but luring raptors to the hemp fields? That’s just shitting where you eat. Anyway, they kind of tipped out the sack, got out the way… they had a bunch of squirming baby raptors in there that they’d been using to get the mothers and stuff to follow ’em.” Lekko twitched slightly. “And once the raptors all realised their family was safe, they started on what they do best. Eating crops. They even eat hemp. They’ll eat anything.” Kat hesitated, knowing she was getting to the part of the story she still felt most ashamed of. “And then one of the Stone Rats saw me.”

“Oh, shit.”

“He put his finger to his lips, then across his throat and… I knew that he knew who I was, and if I said anything he’d kill me. I was about to leave and pretend I’d seen nothin’… but the Hounds turned up before I could.” Her voice wobbled. “I dunno how they did it, but the Stone Rats, it was like they all melted away. And the Hounds were seeing their hemp being eaten and I was the only one around. One of ’em grabbed me while the others got rid of the raptors. They were real quick at killing the raptors and that. And then they dragged me to their base and made me sit down and started asking me questions. It was really scary… I thought they were gonna kill me… They were asking who let the raptors in.”

“What did you say?”

“I – I said I didn’t see. Coz you don’t tell on the gangs, none of ’em. They’d have found out. And they don’t forget or forgive. But they were so angry, they wanted to know why I didn’t run to warn them when I wasn’t that far from their headquarters, and they accused me of letting them in and… then the leader got involved. Big Grim, she’s scary. Scary crazy. She let me go. But she told me that me and my gran had better watch our backs… and after that, it all kind of fell apart for us. The Hounds wouldn’t trade us hash, so we couldn’t afford to pay the Stone Rats, and the Twinblades were pissed off with us coz we couldn’t keep paying back my parents’ debts either. They were threatening to kidnap me and steal my organs. And I caused that.”

“But you didn’t. You’re not responsible for anything that happened.”

“I _am_. If I hadn’t pissed off the Hounds, we might have had a chance… and when I pissed off the Hounds I pissed off the town as well. Coz word spread, and then everyone knew me as the girl who let the raptors in.” The words choked her. “And I kind of did, didn’t I, because I didn’t say anything because I was too much of a coward to speak up…”

“Oh, Kat.” To Kat’s surprise, she found herself being hugged. “You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and you made the smartest decision you could. Sometimes, not speaking up is the wisest thing to do.”

“But it wasn’t the _right_ thing to do.”

“Kat,” Lekko said somewhat disgustedly. “You’re a fucking swamp-lander. You know what happens to people who get all moral in the swamps. They die. Same with drifters… you don’t stay alive by blindly following a set of principles, do you?”

“I still killed my grandmother,” she said quietly. “I loved her, Lekko. And… I guess I said all that shit to Rei and the twins, but I made mistakes too, didn’t I? This is like Shark all over again, only it wasn’t me this time.”

She buried her face in Lekko’s shoulder. Her rain-dampened skin smelled of earthiness and pine. “All the times we fuck up, Lekko. What happens if more people die?”

“Let’s not think about that. Come on, let’s find Pia and fill her in on what’s happened.”

But Pia had already found out. She was sitting on the steps outside the refuge, watching Lekko and Kat as they made their way back. When they got within hearing distance, she said, “So Moll’s told you you’ve got to leave.”

“Yeah,” Kat said. “Pia…”

“I dunno how to feel, Kat. After World’s End yesterday. I dunno…”

Kat sat next to Pia. Lekko went inside, presumably to give them a bit of space. “I never went to World’s End before yesterday, Pia. But what they did… what happened to that place and the people there… it was horrible. I’m so sorry.”

“I just want the truth,” Pia said. “Your friends who got captured. What did they know about where you were going?”

“Rei said she was planning to take the people we’d freed up to World’s End, via Bast. That was all Ava and Ruka knew.”

“I thought that was the case.” Pia’s eyes filled with tears. “I always heard Tengu was crazy. When I lived in Blister Hill, I mean. I just sort of thought it was coz the Holy Nation hated the United Cities. But… to burn a whole town down… just coz of some vague _plan_ … I dunno how someone could do something like that. That ain’t rational, or reasonable, or whatever. It wasn’t even like you were that wanted… were you?”

“Well, we _did_ kill a noble and destroy a whole slave camp.”

“Yeah, but like… there are other slave camps. And I didn’t think he was like, an important noble.”

“I don’t know, Pia.”

“Do you think they want war?”

“The United Cities? I think they might.”

Pia was shivering. “War with _you_?”

“War with everyone, I guess. Maybe we were just an excuse.”

“Maybe,” Pia said.

“In light of all this, Pia… you really don’t have to come with us if you don’t want to.”

“I guess _you_ don’t want me with you, right? I ain’t good at things… I’m not even brave. I dragged you all up to World’s End and didn’t even go in.”

“But you used to run messages through cannibal country. That’s brave, right?”

She shrugged.

“Pia, come with us.”

“It’ll be dangerous though, right?”

“Probably, yeah.”

“But better than here.” She stood up and readjusted her shawl, which was slipping off her shoulder. “OK. Guess I’ll always wonder what could’ve been, if I stay here. And I could always go back to Flotsam if I change my mind.”

It was strange to think that just a few weeks ago she’d been begging to leave. Now, her excitement was muted. She smiled thinly at Kat and opened the door to the storm-house. “You still going to the Shek Kingdom?”

“That’s something I want to talk about with the others.”

Kat and Pia were the last ones to arrive in the refuge. Lekko was already sitting at the table. The three Shek who had caused the trouble were standing in a defensive triangle with their arms folded. Spade was steadfastly refusing to make eye contact with anyone else. _Of course it was her._ “So, are we gonna talk about our options or what?”

“Option one, kick out the pesky darkened. Option two, follow through with our plans to head south.” Jared shrugged. “I mean, I’m personally in favour of option two, but—”

“Yeah, I guessed that was probably the case.” Remembering what Lekko had said on the wall, Kat forced herself to keep her voice even. “OK, fine. How do we all feel about travelling? Assuming we can get supplies to last us as far as the Shek Kingdom. Do we think we could leave and get there in one piece?”

“It’s a long way,” Lekko said. “We could _maybe_ do it in four days, if we were stronger.”

“I’m thinking more about dangers. Lekko, you mentioned the Deadhive. And there’ll be paladins in the holy lands as well… maybe some bandits. And when me and Longstoat passed through when we left the swamps, we saw a lot of wild bonedogs around Stack. Do we think they’re manageable dangers?”

“Avoiding things is probably the best policy,” Lekko replied.

“I mean, yeah… but sometimes we can’t.”

“That’s the risk drifters have to contend with. The Shek can fight though, right? And Pia could probably outrun most of the stuff we’d be up against. We could use her as a scout – if Pia is happy to do that.”

Pia’s eyes lit up. “Nobody’s ever asked me to scout before.”

“Me and you can walk together, Kat,” Lekko continued, “and then the twins have their swords on either side of us.”

“What about Rei?”

Lekko visibly hesitated. “If she walks with us, we can keep – uh, I mean, she can walk with us.”

“ _Keep an ey_ _e on her_ , was that what you were going to say, Lekko?” Rei said, bristling.

“I didn’t mean keep an eye, I just meant…”

Kat winced. They would never be able to make plans without having some kind of argument. “Rei, leave it. Please.”

“I’m crazy, not stupid. I can tell when people think I’m a liability.” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “If you think I’m gonna put the group in danger, I’ll accept that. And I’ll make my own plans independent of yours.”

Before anyone could stop her, she had disappeared upstairs. Lekko sighed and put her head in her hands. “Someone go after her.”

“I’ll go,” Kat said before Jared could offer. She raced up the stairs to the roof of the storm-house, trying not to ignore the feeling that she’d done this rather too many times back in Bark. “Rei? Come on, come back down.”

“I think everyone’s made it clear, don’t you?” Rei said. “I can’t do anything right, I piss everyone else off, and now I’ve finally gone completely crazy. You’re better off without me.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy, Rei.”

“You can’t see inside my head,” she answered.

She turned away, staring into the breeze. Kat knew it was to hide the tears that had spilled over. “Your mind is just throwing stuff at you, is all. You’re still _you_.”

“I don’t think there is a _me_. There was a version of me that existed before the slave camp, but that’s gone now. Then another in Bark, and another killing Haga, and going to World’s End… and seeing World’s End burned to cinders… Nothing about me has stayed the same. So what makes you so sure I’m sane?”

“Rei—”

“Kat, I’m not fishing for sympathy here. But if me going out with the group is going to get somebody killed, I can’t do that. I can’t live with more deaths on my conscience. I’ll go my own way.”

She would get herself killed within the day. Kat shook her head. “I can’t let you do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re my friend! Aren’t you? Rei—”

She reached out and held her hand, linking her two littlest fingers with Rei’s. It was awkward and clumsy, but it was something they had done back in the slave camp when they’d needed to comfort each other. “We’re the two that’re left. From Bark. And it’s horrible, being alone. You don’t deserve it, not after all you’ve been through.”

Rei did not respond.

“Rei. We’ll look out for you. I promise.”

“I just want everything to stop,” she said.

The breeze smelled of incoming rain. Kat took Rei’s other hand in her bandaged one. For a moment they just stood there in silence, as the clouds grew thicker and greyer above their heads. The blotted-out sunlight only added an extra layer of despondency to what they were both already feeling. Kat looked down at Rei’s hands and saw the soft insides of her wrists were patterned with nail marks.

“What happened there?”

“Can’t remember.”

The air was becomingly increasingly damp. Kat could already feel her flimsy vest clinging to her skin. “Let’s go in.”

“They don’t want me there.”

“They do.”

“I’ve seen the way they look at me.”

“Well, you don’t want to be standing out here when it starts to rain, do you?” Kat led her, unresisting, across the roof. The others, who appeared to have put their discussion on hold until Kat reappeared, tried to pretend nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

“Thanks for bringing her back,” Jared said quietly as she passed him.

“Maybe we should both stay with her.” Kat knew she hadn’t imagined it, the flare of respect in Jared’s eyes. “She knows we care.”

He nodded and sat down just in front of Rei, shielding her from curious stares. Kat kept her fingers intertwined with Rei’s, realising a little too late that chairing the meeting was only going to bring attention to their section of the room. “I think the formation that Lekko suggested was a good one. We’ll make sure we get maps and supplies from Sky. And we’ll try and stop in cities where possible.”

“Where possible,” Lekko said doubtfully. “I don’t think setting up camp in Blister Hill would be a good idea.”

“No, probably not. We’d need a male human for that. And I’m pretty sure they’ll be able to tell I’ve got a Rebirth mark on my face.” A scarf, pulled over her nose and mouth in the desert fashion, might be enough to hide it, but the paladins had seen through her disguise before. “We’ll just need to find good places to stop for the night. Lekko can probably help with that.”

“I guess,” Lekko said doubtfully. “If I’ve not turned into too much of a city-dweller in the couple of years I was a slave.”

“I’m sure you haven’t. Anyone else got anything to add?”

Shrugs all round. Kat guessed they’d had already had two weeks to think about things, ever since they’d first seen the smoke rise up from the mountain. “Well. I guess that’s it, then. Time to make preparations to leave. We’ll need supplies for seven people and a bonedog, to last us at least a week. And we need first-aid supplies, and leather clothes, and boots if we can get them, and…” _Am I the leader now?_ She longed to ask, but Rei’s nearby presence kept her silent. “I’ll talk to Moll, find out how much time she’s willing to give us.”

With the meeting over, people had already begun to drift towards the door. As it closed behind them, Kat realised she, Rei and the twins were the only people still inside. “I’m surprised nobody else stuck around.”

“They’re pissed off with us,” Jared said.

“Pissed off with _me_ ,” Spade corrected.

“Pissed off with both of us, because neither of us have actually taken the blame for what happened.”

Spade visibly wilted. “I’m sorry, Jar.”

“It felt good though, right? Punching her in the face?”

“Oh yes,” she said, “it felt good.”

Jared swung his legs around so he was facing Rei. “How are you doing, Rei?”

“OK.”

Even if Kat hadn’t seen her on the roof, it was still the least convincing lie she’d ever heard, and Jared seemed to think so too. “We’re your friends, you know, Rei. We aren’t gonna abandon you just because you tell us the truth. Whatever that woman wants to say about Tech Hunters, she can’t honestly say we don’t look after the members of our squads who are struggling. And you’re our squad.”

She nodded. Finally, Kat thought, she was listening. Maybe all it took was Jared. “Thank you.”

“Hey, not a problem. _You’re_ not a problem.”

Rei chuckled weakly. “I’m not sure everyone would agree with you there.”

“Well, no. The United Cities seem to think you’re a bit of a problem. As do the slavers, I’m sure.”

“Good. Let them.”

Kat was ready to leave them to it so she could talk to Moll, but as she was getting up, Jared touched the back of her arm. “By the way, Kat?”

“Yeah?”

“You’d make a good Tech Hunter,” he said.

Kat had no idea how to respond to that. It was only when she’d stepped out of the refuge into the rain that it occurred to her that perhaps she hadn’t needed to.


	10. South

It had been thirteen days since she’d left Bark, and six days since she had learned she would not see her home again. Marisa had no idea why she was still counting; after all, it was not as if the changes had been all for the worse. On the other hand, Lord Aramid’s employ was not yet familiar enough to feel safe, and, now armed with the knowledge of what he wanted her to do, she was wondering if it ever would.

 _I’m a piece in his game, and only time will tell if I’m one he’s willing to sacrifice._ The thought had haunted her during the idle hours of her recovery. She’d tried to chase it away with books, even resorting to the Okranite stories she had previously scorned, but it never went far. It was always there, lurking at the back of her mind, waiting for her to let her guard slip so it could return and enjoy her cowering.

Still, as she tried to tell herself, the changes _hadn’t_ all been bad ones. Lounging around in a comfortable bed, having meals brought to her on the days when her leg made her so faint with pain she couldn’t safely use the crutches, was not the worst of existences. And her leg did seem to be healing. Lord Aramid had brought a doctor in on the third day, who had studied the naked stump until she’d blushed and then finally written her a prescription.

“When can I walk again?” she’d asked him.

“Give it a few months. And find yourself a good quality leg, if your master will let you have one. They tend to be much kinder on the stump, and you’ll be able to walk on it more often. Just don’t overdo it.”

“I won’t overdo it.”

“Lord Aramid told me you’d say that. He also told me you’re a liar. So, follow the doctor’s orders. Unless you want to lose even more of that leg to infection.”

“OK,” she’d promised.

She’d never hated the thought of keeping her word so much, even if she was currently in no position to break it. The longer she spent resting, the more she felt her muscles wasting away. She needed to get back in practice using her _nodachi,_ or at the very least, she needed to get some kind of exercise. But even short walks on the crutches were starting to exhaust her, and on a couple of occasions she’d buckled under her own body weight. Cassie had had to half-carry, half-drag her mistress back to bed. At this rate, she would soon be stronger than Marisa was.

Lord Aramid visited from time to time. At first, the conversations had been awkward and stilted, with Marisa reluctant to talk. But gradually, her fear of slipping up and saying something wrong began to melt away, and the conversations became far livelier. When the chair in the corner of the room was empty, she almost missed him.

 _It’s like having a friend. Can nobles be friends with commoners?_ She’d never considered Lady Sanda a friend; it had always felt like a big step above her station to even think of her as an acquaintance. She’d been on a different level from Marisa, ethereal and aloof and… _Cold. Cruel._ _Capricious._ But Lord Aramid wasn’t like that. Maybe it was because he hadn’t been born into nobility, that he didn’t care for the rules and etiquettes of the nobility. Marisa had sensed a darkness in him – he’d been pretty ruthless in his imprisonment of the cooks – but that darkness was tantalising rather than frightening. Whenever he was around, her fingers would tingle, and she’d find herself smiling a lot more than she did when it was just her and Cassie. It was silly, really; her guard friends had never elicited that kind of reaction. She must have been on her own for too long.

As the sixth day wore on, Marisa found herself growing increasingly restless. She drummed her fingers against the wall. She tried to comb out the tangles in her hair with her fingers. She opened the nearest book and flicked the pages front to back, back to front. Eventually she got fed up and tossed it at the curtain. Cassie looked up at the sudden movement.

“Sorry, Cassie.”

If Marisa was bored, Cassie was probably even more so. She could be relied upon to retrieve snacks from the kitchen, and to bring Marisa more books when the supply was exhausted, but it wasn’t like she could enjoy eating or get swallowed up in a story. Marisa had tried reading to her, but the thought of Lord Aramid listening in from behind the curtain had made her flush and close the book. She hadn’t tried again. “You know, what would be good is if we could find a way for you to communicate with us. Then you could tell us when things were poisoned… and we could have conversations.”

Cassie tilted her head to the side. _I’m listening_ , she seemed to be saying.

“I could try and teach you to write, but I’m not a great teacher. And I don’t think Lord Aramid would be happy if I spilled ink on the bed.”

Cassie shrugged. A little despondently, Marisa thought.

“You know what, Cassie? I think I’m going to take a bath.”

She’d gotten used to undressing in front of Cassie; it wasn’t like there had been a lot of privacy back in Lady Sanda’s house. What was stranger was having Cassie there when she was bathing, going back and forth with hot water and monitoring her to make sure she didn’t pass out from pain. It was when she went to wash Marisa’s hair that Marisa pulled her head away. Having her delicate dry strands snagged under Cassie’s fingernails was not an experience she desired. “I’ll do my own hair, thanks.”

Cassie sat down on the other side of the tub, her face impassive through the rising steam. Marisa tried not to feel too guilty as she rinsed out the soap. “Would you fetch me a couple of towels, please, Cassie?”

Alone. That was all she wanted, a few moments alone. She leaned back against the tub, closing her eyes and trying her best to relax. No stressing, no worrying, just a little bit of luxury. She might almost have had it, too, if it hadn’t been for her stump throbbing in the hot water. She’d need to make sure she re-bandaged it properly when she got out of the bath.

Cassie came back with a set of towels in one hand and a small ceramic bottle in the other. Marisa frowned at the bottle. “What’s that?”

Cassie pushed the cork off with her thumbnail and held it under Marisa’s nose so she could sniff it. It smelled a little like the oil that had burned on Lord Aramid’s altar. “You should probably put that back, you know.”

She shook her head and mimed rubbing at her scalp. Marisa looked back at the bottle. She’d heard oil was good for hair, but it was the sort of luxury that was reserved for the nobility, and she’d never had a chance to use it. “OK. Give it here.”

She suspected she was using it wrong, tipping far too much on hair that was only one stage dryer than dripping wet, but it did smell nice. When she glanced at Cassie for help, the girl shrugged and spread her hands.

“Oh, I see. You’ve just seen rich people use it. Do you think Lord Aramid puts this stuff on his beard? It’s really shiny…”

Cassie quickly looked down, but Marisa had caught her smirk. She was glad of the steam in the room as she set the bottle down and wrapped her hair in the towel. “You know about poison, and you know about rich people. I don’t know what kind of person you were before you were a slave, but I’m getting curious. We’ll have to teach you to write.”

Cassie’s smirk disappeared. She just shrugged, hunching her shoulders, and moved forward to help Marisa out of the bath. Marisa tried to do it by herself, but the crutches slid on the damp floor. If Cassie hadn’t grabbed her in time, she’d have smashed her face against the sharp lip of the tub. Shaken, she pulled the other towel around her chest.

“I’m fine.”

She didn’t even protest when Cassie helped her dress again; at least it was less embarrassing than being disrobed. She did, however, draw the line at Cassie’s inexperienced hands prodding the healing stump of her leg, and waved them away when Cassie drew near with bandages. “Let me do that.”

Applying the cold, soothing ointment was a relief after the hot bath, and had far more of an effect than her tinctures did. Lord Aramid had let them have her back, but they’d been returned to her in a diluted form. Now they barely did anything, except ease her into sleep when the pain kept her awake. Marisa knew she ought to feel grateful rather than resentful, as the full extent of her previous over-reliance had scared her, but even the knowledge he’d done it for her own good was still not enough to fully wash away the bitterness. She collapsed against the pillows, suddenly exhausted, and wondered why she had so little energy when she’d done so little with her day.

“Marisa. Is this a bad time?”

Had he timed his entrance? Marisa felt sweat break out on her clean skin. She knew she was decently covered, but she still had to check. “My lord. No. It’s not a bad time at all… it’s a good time… I mean…”

He nodded courteously and sat down in his usual chair. Marisa forced herself to sit up and lean on the headboard so she could see him. She could have sworn that every time she saw him, his features grew a little softer and less sharp-looking. And his beard was _very_ shiny. “Have you had a good day, my lord?”

“Not too bad. I’ve been out in the city, meeting with my eyes and ears. I gathered a little local insight… and news from abroad, as well. It would seem that the war with the Holy Nation is becoming far less of a… let’s say background presence… than it formerly was. The empire’s started conscription, you know.”

“That sounds serious, my lord.”

“It may simply be a precautionary measure. We do have plenty of soldiers already, after all. But it’s always good to train more, and we don’t yet know how the Holy Nation will respond to the Shield being attacked – assuming our assault is a success.”

“It must be strange for you,” she said, “when your birthright is in a different land from that of your citizenship.”

“A little, but believe me, my loyalties lie with the United Cities. It would be foolish to side with a nation that has no more chance of winning the forthcoming war than a drunkard has in a nest of gutters.”

“I see.”

“Sometimes it’s useful to side with the victor, Marisa.”

“Is that what dictates your loyalties, my lord?”

“Definitely not. That would be far too simple.” He raised an eyebrow. “And what have _you_ been up to, besides dousing yourself in my rather expensive oils?”

“I’m sorry, my lord,” she squeaked.

“I wouldn’t mind, if it wasn’t such an overpowering smell. If you’re looking to try out new fragrances, I have colognes that are far milder.”

“Sorry, my lord. I just – I wanted to see if I could do something to make my hair a bit less dry.”

“Hmm.” He narrowed his eyes at the towel wrapped around her head. “Yes. You have desert-dwellers’ hair. Well, I can’t exactly help with that” – he indicated his own hair, which was slick and straight – “but I’ll see about finding someone with a little more knowledge. And maybe some less stinky oils.”

He smiled at her. Marisa pressed her lips together to keep a giggle from escaping. _It’s not appropriate, not here, not now._ “By the way, I got you something when I was in the city.”

Her eyes widened. “You got me something, my lord?”

“Just a small thing. Don’t get your hopes up too much.”

He leaned over and passed her a small drawstring bag made of black velvet. She ran her fingers over it, taking in the fuzzy texture.

“Thank you, my lord.”

He rolled his eyes at that. “ _Inside_ the bag.”

She opened it up and tipped something into her hand. It was a stone pendant, a pebble set in a metal claw that attached to a fine silvery chain. The pebble’s edges had been rounded by years and years of wind, or shifting sand, or water. But the colour was the most striking. It was pale blue like the early sky, and when she held it to the light, she saw that it was translucent. “What is it?” she asked.

“A piece of sea glass. It used to be a fragment of broken bottle, probably thrown into the sea by a drunk peasant. But the waves have smoothed all its sharp edges, and transformed it into something beautiful.”

It must have taken some searching in the markets for him to find it. Marisa closed her hand around it, the strange glass stone cool in her grasp. “Thank you, my lord. But – why are you giving me this?”

“I thought it might remind you of your home,” he said.

Her breath caught for a second. She’d never said as much to Lord Aramid – not even to Cassie – but she’d missed the sea even more than she’d missed Bark. She’d missed the early sunrise over the sparkling waters, the soft hushing sound of the waves as they lapped against the shore of Lady Sanda’s island, the delicious coolness of sticking your hand in on a particularly blistering day. She’d often found herself gazing at the horizon, wondering what it would be like to swim out to it. “And it does. Thank you so much. I—” She realised she was dangerously close to tears, and blinked rapidly as she put the precious little gift back into its bag. “Sorry. It’s just… nobody’s ever really given me anything before.”

He looked surprised at that. “Are men in Bark not the giving types?”

“Men in Bark?”

“Or women. Whatever you are into.”

“ _Oh_.” She suddenly realised he was referring to relationships, and wished she could sink through the mattress. “No, no. I didn’t have any – I mean, nobody ever—”

“A pity really.” He stood up, brushing the shoulder of his robe. “When did you last eat, by the way?”

“This morning, my lord.”

“It’s not good for you to skip meals while you’re healing, you know. I’d rather know you are eating well. Dine with me tonight. And Cassie, I’ll show you where the servants eat, so you have a chance to get to know them.”

“So Cassie isn’t eating with us?” Marisa checked.

“As grateful as I am to her for saving my life the other night – and quite possibly yours as well – you should have the right to share as much or as little with her as you choose. It is, after all, _you_ who are to become my assistant.” He winked. Something about the word _assistant_ sounded an awful lot like the word _spy._ “Tonight, I want to tell you what I found out from my contacts. Meet me at sunset.”

“Yes, my lord.”

As soon as Lord Aramid had left the room, Cassie raised her eyebrows at Marisa. There were two ways to read that expression, but Marisa was only willing to interpret one of them. “He really wasn’t joking, was he? When he said he was going to turn me into another pair of eyes and ears.”

Cassie shook her head.

“Dirty noble secrets, though. Could be fun.”

This time the look Cassie gave her was reminiscent of a stern military commander. It jolted Marisa, just as a slap to the face might have jolted her. Of course it wasn’t fun. Giving in to naive silliness would only end one way – with her slumped over a poisoned cup of sake.

 _Naive silliness,_ she thought to herself. _That doesn’t just go for this dance, either._ _However nice Lord Aramid is being –_ _and_ _however many bits of sea glass he gives you – he’s a noble. And like you said to Ceras, nobles aren’t like the rest of us._

Cassie relaxed at Marisa’s change in expression, and Marisa noticed. She supposed Cassie was doing her job… or whatever she’d decided her job to be, in a household where she didn’t have a lot of orders to follow. Maybe stopping Marisa getting hurt didn’t just begin and end with helping her out of the bath.

“You’re right,” Marisa told her, but unbeknownst to Cassie, her fingers still clutched the little bag under the coverlet. She could feel the piece of sea glass through the soft velvet, smooth and round and perfect. Even though she was in full awareness of the thoughts now racing through her mind, it still came as a surprise when she found herself unable to let go of it.

* * *

“I’m sorry about this,” Moll said.

“Believe me, you’re not,” Spade muttered. “You’re really not.”

Even though she was directly behind Kat, Kat still turned all the way around to glare at her. “This is _your_ fault.”

“Kat,” Lekko said, “let’s not leave on bad terms.”

“We _are_ leaving on bad terms.” Moll didn’t contradict her, Kat noticed. But the way she looked at Kat was almost regretful, at least compared to the way she regarded the Shek. “Come on. Let’s go.”

It was a subdued group that set out from Flotsam; even Scrap had sensed the tension in the air, and was keeping close to Rei with his head down. Kat was ready to walk past the guards without a fuss, but then she made the mistake of looking back, and her eyes locked with Daria’s. She might have made a final, parting shot if Lekko hadn’t pulled her away.

“You know it’s not worth it, Kat.”

Kat no longer knew what was worth it and what wasn’t. Leaving Flotsam was an annoyance and a stress and a relief all in one. She had no idea if she was still upset with Spade, or if she was glad she’d stood up to Daria, or both. In fact, she wasn’t sure of her feelings towards _anyone_ in the group; Rei’s fragile vulnerability, Pia’s resigned sadness, Lekko’s painfully obvious attempts at pretending to be the capable adult. And whilst there was a fresh modicum of respect between herself and Jared, they had not forgotten what they had said to each other, and probably never would. Kat couldn’t quite shake off the feeling there had been a little snideness in Jared’s Tech Hunter comment… even if, on the face of it, it had been a compliment.

Nobody spoke as they moved through the Hidden Forest, and even if there hadn’t been the threat of cannibals behind the trees, the silence would still have suited Kat just fine. They’d just left their one place of refuge, with nothing but uncertain paths ahead, and less than ten minutes ago, they’d been bid farewell by someone who was not-so-secretly glad to see the back of them. It was not much of a conversation starter.

The trees in the Forest grew more densely packed as they moved through. These trees were tall and spindly and ominous, with few leaves. Kat wondered if they’d fallen victim to some kind of blight. She cast her gaze to the flaking bark of the trunks and saw smears of black on them. “What’s that stuff on the trees?”

“What stuff – oh, shit.” Jared came to a stop. He scraped at the black stuff with his fingernail and inspected it. “Paint. Still almost fresh. Cannibals have been this way recently, marking the place out.”

“That’s bad, right?”

“Means we gotta be careful.”

Lekko took off her hat, gripping it like a shield. “Which side of the trees would be safer?”

“I don’t know, do you want to take that gamble?”

The daubed paint made it impossible to forget about the cannibal threat even for a second. Lekko was on high alert, her bare feet unconsciously scuffing over her tracks as her eyes darted back and forth. Pia was moving in between the trunks, ready to run at the first sign of movement. Rei caught Kat’s eye and bit her lip.

“Remember,” Jared said, “we need to stay together. If we split up—”

Something broke cover from the trees, sprinting across the path between Pia and the rest of the group. Pia squealed. Jared grabbed Rei and Spade’s arms and pulled them back, as a torrent of small dark shapes came leaping and bounding through trees and over rocks. Then they were gone, and Kat found herself able to breathe again.

“Goats,” Lekko said, but her voice was shaking. “Something must have spooked them… we’d better move through quickly.”

The tension only seemed to grow after that, and it wasn’t until the familiar mists began to spiral in front of them that Kat felt a little safer. But once they were properly in the Floodlands, she remembered the new threat of broken machines crawling at knee-height, and found herself filled with an almost nostalgic longing for the Forest. Rei, on the other hand, was looking far more relaxed.

“Make sure you don’t get complacent,” Jared said, “there’s plenty of shit out here to worry about. And watch your step if you have to wade. Those spider-bots are pretty damn waterproof, for what they are.”

“You’ve been here before?” Kat asked him.

“Yeah, plenty of old ruins in these parts. It’s about as wet as the Swamp, but we’d take mechanical spiders over blood spiders any day, right, Spade?”

Spade shuddered. “Got attacked by a blood spider once,” she said in response to Kat’s enquiring expression. “They spit venomous acid.”

“Oh… that sounds painful.”

“It was.”

The path was not nearly so well-defined as it had been the last time Kat had made the crossing. Her heart sank when she looked ahead and saw that half of it seemed to have disappeared underwater. She wished she hadn’t listened to Jared’s assertion that spider-bots would be just as functional in the water as they were on dry land.

“We’re going to have to swim, aren’t we?” she said.

Pia had come to a stop at the beginning of the flooded section. “I can’t swim.”

“We shouldn’t need to swim,” Spade said, “but we’d better be prepared to wade.”

The flooded path was the beginning of the end leg of their journey, and by far the most miserable. The mist curled like fingers, reaching out for arms and legs. Despite the whispery silence, little sounds were amplified that much more; the steady _splosh splosh_ _splosh_ was as loud as a swamp-turtle’s mating call.

“We’re nearly there,” Kat said, as the mist began to recede. It couldn’t have come a moment too soon, either; the sky was already beginning to darken. “I remember the safe-house wasn’t too far.”

“How far is far?” Spade wanted to know.

“I dunno… about twenty minutes.”

“Anything else we need to worry about?” Lekko said.

She’d passed out next to the safe-house, and had not been harmed. Maybe she’d just been lucky. Kat shrugged. “Might be something… maybe bonedogs or stray spider-bots or something…” At the mention of bonedogs, Scrap shook out his fur and sneezed. “I dunno.”

Returning to the safe-house was almost like greeting an old friend, but the sense of relief was a fleeting one. Now she was seeing the place in darkness, and with a head no longer fogged by fever, Kat felt almost disappointed. The air was thick with dust, the lights barely worked, and the boiler was switched off. Lekko tried to activate it, but it simply made a low groaning sound and fell silent again.

“How is everyone?” Jared asked.

They were all soaked to the skin, with numb lips and chattering teeth. Spade kept blowing on her hands and rubbing them together. Lekko, still fiddling with the boiler, was shivering, her wet clothes almost see-through. And Pia looked thoroughly miserable, with loose strands of hair plastered against her face. It was shaping up to be an unpleasant evening – even more so if Lekko couldn’t get the boiler working.

“This is no good,” Lekko said, thumping the tank. “It’s not just tetchy, it’s broken.”

“ _Tetchy_ , is that a technical term?” Spade murmured.

“It is in my book. Someone find me some tools.”

“Is that a thing drifters know about?” Kat said as she brought the tool-box over. “Electricity?”

“We know how to fix stuff. Same principle applies, right?” But Lekko was looking doubtful. She pulled off a panel and started fiddling with the exposed wires. “You should go and sit with the others, Kat. You look frozen.”

“So do you.”

“I’ll be fine. Check on Rei, will you?”

Rei was sitting cross-legged on the floor, with Scrap next to her. Her face was pale enough that her freckles had disappeared, and it wasn’t just the poor lighting. “Rei?”

“It’s worse in here,” she said faintly. She wasn’t shivering. Scrap was whining and trying to climb onto her lap. “Can’t you feel it, Kat?”

Kat touched Rei’s arm and winced. “You’re really cold.”

“It’s fine.”

“You should have _said_ something.”

Jared had noticed, too; he squatted down in front of her, reaching out to touch her, then evidently thought better of it. “Rei, you need to come and sit with the others.”

“I’m fine here.”

“You’re _not_ , you’re hypothermic.”

Kat had never heard the word _hypothermic_ before, but she thought she could hazard a guess as to what it meant. “Rei, listen to Jared. You can’t sit on your own. You need to get some dry clothes and sit with the rest of us.”

Rei’s eyes drifted closed. “I’m not getting undressed. And I don’t need to.”

“Oh, fuck this,” Jared muttered. “Of all the people this has to happen to…”

Whether he had ever been planning on finishing that sentence, Kat would never know, because a half-second later there was a flash of light from the corner, and Lekko yelped in pain. Kat span around to see her clutching at her hand and staring at the cables with wide eyes.

“Shit, Lekko! Don’t fuck around with that thing, you idiot, it’s broken. You’re soaking wet and playing with electricity – what the _fuck_ happened to your survival instinct?” Jared demanded.

“We need to warm up,” she said numbly, “and it’s not safe to start a fire in here.”

“If you’re not careful you _will_ start a fire. Fucking drifters, meddling with stuff they shouldn’t.” Seeing that Lekko was still staring at the boiler, Jared marched up to her and physically pulled her away. “Kat,” he said as he led Lekko to the corner of the room. “You’re Rei’s friend, right? She trusts you. Do whatever you need to do to get her warmed up.”

“Pass me a blanket.”

Rei’s movements were sluggish and uncooperative. She was fast reaching a point where she wouldn’t even be able to hold her own head up. Kat threw the blanket over Rei to preserve her modesty from the others, and started peeling off her wet shirt. Scrap growled, very slightly; a warning growl. As much time as she had spent with him, Kat knew she was playing with fire here. “Jared, can you tie him up? I’m worried he’s gonna attack me.”

As baggy as Rei’s clothes were, they clung like a second skin. She protested faintly as Kat pulled the shirt over her head, but it wasn’t until Kat tried to remove her trousers that she attempted to push her away. “No – don’t, please…”

“I’m sorry, Rei.” But the apology was meaningless. Rei wasn’t currently in a state to forgive, and even though her motions were inhibited, the fear in her eyes was very real. Scrap’s growls had not quite given way to snarls yet, but he was straining at the end of his lead as he tried to reach Rei. As she pulled Rei’s trousers off her legs, Kat realised just how much she hated; she hated herself for causing Rei so much distress, she hated Jared for slinking away like she wasn’t his responsibility, she hated Rei for having turned into such a liability for the group. “Lekko, aren’t you supposed to be our medic?”

“I mean, yes, but—”

“Are you gonna help or what?”

“I was trying to help before.”

“Well, _actually_ help _now_!”

She didn’t know where the snappishness was coming from. Up until she’d realised just how bad a state Rei was in, she hadn’t realised she still had the capacity for caring about being anything other than warm and dry. Lekko came over and helped her support Rei’s deadweight as far as the corner of the room. They set her down with blankets and cushions pressed between her and the wall, and struggling out of their own wet clothes, lay on either side of her.

“She’ll freak out, you know,” Lekko said.

“She’s more likely to recover from freaking out than being dead,” Jared snapped. “Lekko, what the hell’s wrong with your priorities at the moment? I thought you were supposed to be a survivor. If your goal is to get everyone killed…”

“That’s not fair,” Pia said. “You’re being mean, Jared. You never used to be this mean.”

Jared blinked. “I’m not _mean_.”

“You are,” she said, and pulled her own blanket tighter. “You’re talking like Reva and the Flotsam people.”

Before Jared had any chance to retort, Pia had rolled over to sleep. Lekko followed suit, huddling against Rei. Kat pressed against Rei’s other side, ducking under the blanket so she could better warm Rei with her own body heat. It had the added bonus of not having to look at Jared’s expression.

She just wished she didn’t feel quite so guilty.

* * *

He was late. Marisa fiddled with the silk of the tablecloth and wondered if she’d somehow misinterpreted his instructions.

Nobody seemed to be about at all this evening. Marisa couldn’t even hear the voices of the servants Cassie was eating with, but that was nothing new. Even without people watching her – at least none that she could see – it was difficult not to feel humiliated. Perhaps, she thought wildly, this was a test, even a punishment… Had she done something to anger Lord Aramid? Her mind raced, but she could think of nothing that might have displeased him. But that didn’t mean much. He was, after all, a noble.

She must have been waiting for a good twenty minutes when she realised she was not alone in the room. A movement stirred out of the corner of her eye, and her head twitched towards it. There was a figure standing there, his robes so well-camouflaged against the black of the curtain that he was almost invisible. She had not noticed him enter, and had no idea how long he’d been standing there observing her. “My lord.” She tried to stand up, but remembered just in time that she was missing a leg. “I – I didn’t realise you were—”

“I thought not. Don’t worry, you weren’t doing anything embarrassing. I’ve seen far too many people idly picking their noses or scratching their balls when they think nobody’s watching.” He swept across the room and settled himself at the table. “I see my gift was appreciated.”

“My lord?”

“You’re wearing it.”

“Oh.” She touched a finger to the cool sea glass, dangling on its chain around her neck. “I like it, my lord.”

He inclined his head. “And it suits you. Now, Marisa…” He leaned forward a little, as if he was about to speak more privately. The backs of Marisa’s hands began to tingle in anticipation. “Will it be the _gohan_ or the gorillo steak? All poison-tested, you have my assurance on that front.”

She wanted to ask for the steak, but was sure that would fail her the test. “The _gohan_. Please.”

“You heard her,” Lord Aramid called to the curtain.

There was the sound of hidden scurrying, and a few minutes later two steaming bowls of _gohan_ were brought out. It was a little fancier than the _gohan_ the peasants ate, with a sticky sauce and chunks of some meat Marisa didn’t recognise the taste of.

“So, Marisa. I hope you are managing to entertain yourself.”

She hesitated, then nodded.

“Don’t worry. There will be more for you to do soon. Would you like some bread with that?”

“Yes, please.”

He chuckled as he passed her the plate. “Thought you might. You look hungry.”

“Sorry, my lord.”

“Is that a thing you do? Eat when you’re nervous?”

There was no point in lying; he’d see straight through it, anyway. Marisa nodded. “I’m sorry. It’s not very disciplined of me.”

“Don’t worry about that. If you have the option to eat, eat. Now, where were we? Ah yes. We were going to discuss what I found out today.”

The bread was a mistake. Marisa, who’d taken a bigger mouthful than she’d intended, gulped down water to try and force the dry, half-chewed lump down her oesophagus. It slid unpleasantly towards her stomach, leaving her with a strange heavy feeling. “Yes, my lord.”

“What do you know about the current world situation?”

“That’s rather an open question, my lord,” she mumbled, resisting the urge to take more bread from the plate.

“Indeed it is, and well spotted. But open or not, it still stands. So what’s your answer?”

“World’s End has been destroyed. The empire plans to attack the Shield next. You said conscription has started. We’re going to war, probably on one front but possibly two. And if we push into the river-lands—”

He held up a hand to stop her. “Two?”

“I mean, my lord,” she faltered, thinking she’d made a mistake, “I know the emperor wasn’t concerned about the Tech Hunters. But Lady Tsugi was…”

“Lady Tsugi prioritises her own interests over those of the empire. Always has done.” Lord Aramid shrugged. “Not necessarily a bad thing. It does make her quick to spot potential problems which Tengu may… overlook. And it’s true that her territory lies a little close to Black Scratch for her liking. Now, whether or not the Tech Hunters become any kind of issue depends on a lot of things. For one, World’s End left no survivors… at least none that are going to talk and stir up unrest. For another, World’s End occupied a rather risky position on the edge of Okranite territory, and I know for sure that they had Skeletons and Hivers and Shek up there – not to mention a large supply of highly illegal books. The Holy Nation will blame the empire, but the Tech Hunters are probably more likely to blame the Holy Nation, because let’s face it, who would be more likely to raze an entire town filled with people they didn’t like? Bast ring any bells?”

“So you think the Tech Hunters won’t be a threat, my lord?”

“It depends. I don’t imagine they would go to all the trouble of raising an army to attack a highly powerful empire, simply based off rumours and hearsay.”

Marisa supposed that made sense. “So the Tech Hunters aren’t likely to be a problem for now, but the Okranites are?”

“Personally, I think Lady Tsugi is in a fairly safe position,” Lord Aramid said. “She’s far further south, the Deadlands form a wall between the Holy Nation and most of the imperial territories, and the Holy Nation armies will need to funnel through the tiny mountain passes if they want any hope of taking the _northern_ cities. From what I imagine, the empire will take the Shield, push through to Blister Hill, and then easily conquer Bad Teeth and Stack. And that’ll be it. Holy lands conquered, Okranites gone, everyone goes home.”

Marisa sensed a _but_ in his tone. “Do you think that’s how it’ll play out, my lord?”

“There are always gambles in war. If we can’t hold the Shield, and the Okranites are able to march their armies out across the Great Desert, we’ll be in some trouble. Still, it would take resources to conquer the entire empire… resources I doubt the Holy Nation has. Personally, I think there’s some wisdom in taking the Shield. We’ve probably stirred the Okranites to war anyway, with our actions in World’s End.”

“I suppose so, my lord.”

“On the other hand, if conscription takes place in the southern territories, we may be in more trouble. Our hold on those areas is weak, with Valamon and his Reavers… the Anti-Slavers… and not to mention various minor factions of thugs and bandits… I’ve always thought we were one bad fight away from losing Clownsteady. And if the Anti-Slavers manage to attack the slave markets down that way…” He sighed. “I have to say, I do feel like I have rather a personal stake in this.”

“Who are the Anti-Slavers?”

“An unusually organised group of terrorists who care more about ridding the world of slavery than they do about ordinary people. More interested in sowing fear and discord than they are in providing any meaningful solution that won’t completely collapse the empire. Not to mention their leader is a Skeleton with no personal stakes and rumoured ties to Cat-Lon, the most ruthless dictator the world has ever seen… makes you wonder what game he’s playing with everyone else’s lives.”

“Tinfist?” Marisa guessed.

“Indeed.” He smiled grimly. “Never trust a Skeleton, Marisa. Never trust anyone… but _never_ trust Skeletons.”

“The Okranites don’t like Skeletons, do they?”

“They’re Narko’s agents. Of course we despise them. But even unbelievers should be wary… they’re secretive, evasive, they hide very dark secrets. The second-in-command at World’s End was one. I say second-in-command. I doubt very much that he was ever second to anyone, whatever his puppets thought.”

“I see.”

“Speaking of, Tengu captured their head scientist. Personally, I was ready to believe he was nothing more than some figurehead while the Skeleton pulled the strings, but he seems capable. If stubborn. Not sure I can blame him. Tengu hasn’t exactly been kind… still, we have a potential asset, if someone can convince him to work for us.”

“And you think that will happen, my lord?”

“I imagine we might get there. Do you know how to make people do what you want, Marisa? You sit there and strike chords until you get the right combination of notes. Then they become your puppet. I’ll teach you the tricks.”

“Thank you, my lord,” she murmured, sensing he was waiting for it.

“I’m going to get you in the palace,” he said. “Once your leg has healed enough for you to walk around. But in the meantime, I’m wondering if it might be worth my entertaining Lord Ohta and Lady Emika. Perhaps I could invite them to dinner, like we’re having now. What do you think?”

“If my lord thinks that would be most prudent—”

“I don’t want to hear wishy-washy _if my lord_ s. Those are for slaves and cowards. If I ask you for your opinion, I want your opinion.”

“Oh,” she stammered. “Well, I suppose it would be wise to show them hospitality. They’re very established here, and I imagine very close to the emperor. If they mean well, they become potential allies against other threats. If they don’t, perhaps a gesture of goodwill will help neutralise them a little. But—”

“But?” he prompted.

“But you would need to be careful. At least one person is trying to kill you, my lord.”

“Yes,” he conceded, stroking his beard. “There is that.”


	11. Deadhive

There had been dreams. Rei had forgotten most of them, but she still felt sick to her stomach upon waking. The wet and icy mists that had forced their way down her choking throat in the Floodlands had become warm and damp and suffocating. She retched, trying to cough the feeling of moisture out of her lungs, and became suddenly aware of a steadying hand on her shoulder.

“How are you feeling? You were asleep for a really long time.”

Rei didn’t remember going to sleep. Her last clear memory was struggling out of the Floodlands; the rest was lost in haze. The safe-house… they’d reached the safe-house, but… “Did something happen?”

“I guess.” Kat’s eyes were the same shade of glowing yellow as Haga’s. Rei flinched and felt the hand disappear from her shoulder. “You got really cold in the Floodlands… I mean we all did… but…”

There were missing pieces in that picture, she was sure of it. “Scrap… where’s Scrap?”

“He’s fine. We – we had to keep him away.”

“Why?” Rei struggled to sit up. As the blanket fell away she realised she was naked. “Who undressed me?” she demanded.

“I did. Rei…”

It may have been a thick blanket, but it was too thin to protect her. She retreated to the corner of the room, her blanket to her chin, as the shadows hissed and clawed at her exposed skin. “Give me my clothes.”

“They’re still wet. The boiler isn’t—”

_“Give me my clothes!”_

“Rei, please calm down,” Kat whispered, glancing nervously at Scrap. Rei looked over and saw he’d been tethered to the leg of the table. Anger boiled up inside her, chasing away the last of the mist.

“He should have been with me. You _know_ he should have been with me.”

“Rei, I’m sorry. We were – we were trying to keep everyone safe. And we didn’t want to risk—”

“What, you think Scrap’s a potential _risk?_ Like me?”

“You’re not a risk,” Kat said quietly.

“I don’t believe you. Now give me my clothes.”

Her clothes may not have been completely soaked, but they were still unpleasantly damp, and the water in them was cold. She pulled them on and stumbled to her feet, untying Scrap’s leash from the table leg. Scrap barked and jumped up to lick her face. “I’m taking Scrap out.”

“Don’t go too far,” Kat cautioned.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Oh, boy,” Kat said under her breath as Rei yanked the door open. “Rei, don’t—”

Rei wasn’t about to stick around to hear another _don’t_. But as she slammed the door on Kat’s voice, she realised there would be no peace for her outside. Pia was kneeling next to a circle of stones, while Lekko silently piled up kindling. The twins, who’d evidently gone to collect firewood, were returning with armfuls of branches. They dumped them next to Lekko and shot Rei enquiring glances.

“What are you doing?” Rei said, even though the answer was pretty obvious.

“We need to dry everything out before it goes mouldy. Bags, food, everything we took with us…” Lekko struck a flint and gently blew on the spark until it had developed into a flame. She cupped her hand to shield it from the oncoming breeze as she reached for more kindling to build up the fire. “From the state of the sky, we’re not gonna be able to rely on the sun to do that for us.”

“Oh.”

“You feeling all right, by the way?”

“Which answer do you want?”

“I mean, after yesterday. Are you still cold?”

“No,” she said, but she moved closer to the fire all the same. Scrap sniffed the piles of branches the twins had set down, then pissed against a nearby tree. Lekko pulled the rations out of the nearest backpack, staring mutely at the sodden mass of brown paper and crumbling vegetable loaf. It did not look appetising.

“That’s all we have to eat, right?” Pia said.

“We have some jerky.” But Lekko sounded dejected. “This stuff will still be edible… we just need to work out how to stop it from going everywhere and making a mess.”

“Some of it _has_ made a mess,” Spade observed, peering into the bag nearest to her.

“We should be OK,” Jared said. “We have enough food for a week.”

“Yeah, but do you remember what happened last time we went out to the Floodlands? We got to the ruins, fought a shit-ton of spider bots, sat down for lunch only to find there was that black mould growing on it… I swear there’s something in that water that makes stuff go bad.”

Lekko just stared at them both. “You could have brought that up _before_ we left!”

Rei was listening to the conversation, but with detachment. The flames jumped higher and higher, as Lekko turned sleeping bags inside-out and stuck wet boots next to the fire to dry them. She got the sense that she was in the way somehow, but there was something comforting about the fire, and she did not move even when Lekko accidentally elbowed her in the shin.

“Sorry, Rei.”

“Is Kat not coming outside?”

“I don’t think she likes fire.” The flames danced over Lekko’s slightly glazy eyes. “Don’t blame her, really.” She set another branch on the fire. This one was slightly damp with dew, and it hissed a little when she put it down. “You can sit down, you know.”

She was trying to be nice, or maybe she just pitied her. “Oh… no, I’m OK, thanks.”

“Suit yourself,” Lekko said with a little shrug, and began piling up more wood. For someone who should have been in her element outdoors, she looked thoroughly downcast. _Of course she is. She was settled in Flotsam, and then she had to leave because of you – just like in World’s End. And she still hasn’t forgiven you, even if she’s tried to move past it._ _You think drifters don’t hold grudges?_

Scrap was trying to tug the lead out of Rei’s hand. He was getting stronger by the day, and it wouldn’t be long before he was walking her, not the other way round. She looped the rope determinedly around her wrist and allowed him to lead her to the back of the safe-house.

“You’re never mad at me, are you, boy?” she whispered as Scrap poked his long snout along the foundation, exploring new scents.

Scrap’s only response was to drag a stick out of the nearby grass and drop it at her feet. He plopped himself down into a sitting position, his tongue lolling expectantly as she picked it up. She saw his eager eyes and forced a smile.

“Game of fetch?” she said.

* * *

The day had gotten off to a slow start, but as the sun continued to climb behind the clouds, Kat was surprised to see they were catching up on their lost progress. Six weeks ago, most of them had been starving or recovering from the effects of their starvation. Now, as they ploughed through thigh-length grass, with the mountains as specks in the distance behind them, it was as though they were completely fit and healthy again.

But Kat knew better, and wasn’t fooled by the stoic expressions on her companions’ faces. They were pushing themselves – pushing themselves to get to the edge of the holy lands as quickly as they could, even though there was no chance of reaching the Border Zone before nightfall. Even the hardened soles of Lekko’s feet had cuts and blisters, and Scrap had fallen asleep the moment they’d stopped for a rest. They had only just reached the misty fringe of the Fog Islands, and people were beginning to look half dead from exhaustion.

“We need to stop,” Kat said. “Stop properly.”

Lekko shook her head fractionally. “No. We can’t rest this close to the Fog Islands.”

“This isn’t the Fog Islands,” Jared said. “This is Obedience.”

“Is there a difference? It might still be dangerous, either way.”

“Nothing lives in Obedience,” Jared replied. “Nothing organic, anyway.”

Kat wanted to query that, but Jared’s tone was such that the words refused to come. “Is it safe to stop here?”

“Safer than the Fog Islands.”

At Kat’s insistence, an insistence that had Pia’s full and vocal support, the group took another break. The ground here was scrubbier, with plenty of rocks. Pia sprawled across one of them, taking the weight off her feet. Spade sat down on the grass with a groan and yanked her boots off. Jared, however, was standing a good twenty feet from the rest of the group, staring silently into the mists of Obedience.

“Is it lunchtime yet?” Spade said.

“We can’t just eat whenever we want,” Lekko pointed out. “Not when half our food has crumbled away in our bags.”

“We’ve been walking for fucking hours, Lekko. We need our energy. What happens if something attacks us?” Spade demanded.

“We don’t have enough food to—”

“For fuck’s sake, Lekko! Thought you were a drifter. Can’t you just, like, make a snare and catch us something if we run out?”

In spite of everyone’s tiredness, there was enough tension there to spill over into frustrated bickering. Kat left them to it and hobbled over to where Jared was standing. She wondered if he’d spotted something lurking in the mists. “Is anything there?”

“I don’t know. Less comes out of the mists than goes in, just saying.”

“Oh.” She hesitated. “Do you know what’s in there, then?”

“A graveyard.”

She turned to look at him. “What sort of graveyard?”

“Old machines.” Jared perched on a nearby rock, still staring into the mists. “Skeletons from ages gone by, back when they walked among the ancients. It’s a quiet place. Eerie quiet. Me and Spade, we went there once with another brother and sister. Fucking obsessed with the mists, those two were. And the place was… off. Cold and stinking of chemicals. But there was something else.” His jaw twitched. “Obedience. I can’t place it, but there’s something really fucking ominous about that name. I asked Iyo about it when we got back, but he said his memory didn’t stretch back that far.”

“The mist… that’s the same mist as the Fog Islands, right?”

“Yeah. It’s death, Kat. Obedience is a place for the dead. The Fog Islands is for people with a death wish. Those siblings I mentioned? They went off treasure hunting in the mists, not so long before Spade and I left. Never came out again.”

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “It can’t be easy, walking past those mists and knowing what happened to someone you loved who went in there.”

Jared twitched. “I didn’t say—”

“You didn’t have to,” she said.

The atmosphere thickened for a second, then dissipated just as suddenly. It was as if they had simultaneously decided that they were too tired to hold grudges.

“Gotta hand it to you Scorchlanders,” Jared said eventually. “You’ve got guts.”

“Don’t you have to, if you want to be a Tech Hunter?”

“I’m not just talking about Tech Hunters.”

Kat shivered a little in the breeze. She hadn’t gone outside with the others, preferring to stay away from the fire, and her clothes were still uncomfortably damp. “I didn’t think you liked me,” she said to the mists.

“Like you or not, I can’t exactly deny you saved us all. You ran away from the stone camp towards certain death in the desert. You came back to free us. And you warned us we might be in danger at World’s End. Shit, you risked a horrible death-by-paladin just to tell us that. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if you hadn’t.”

Her already-burned cheek burned a little more. “Yeah, but—”

“And for what it’s worth, I don’t hate you. You haven’t exactly been nice, but if I hated people for not being nice, I’d hate myself and this entire team with it.”

“Pia?”

“Huh?”

“Pia. What she said got to you, right?”

“Pia’s…” He frowned into the mists. “I’ve known Pia a few years. She’s a sweet kid. She’s a good – if somewhat simplistic – judge of character. She’ll be friendly enough with most people, but she’s usually pretty honest if she thinks you’re nice, or if she thinks you’re a tool. Shit, I used to love it when she and Finch were in a room together. There were always explosions… and not always literal ones.” He snorted. “Didn’t think it was possible to miss that grumpy jerkass, but I kind of do.”

“She isn’t happy, is she? Pia?”

“Poor kid’s lost. We’re all lost. And we don’t even have a plan.”

“We were going to find—”

“I know we were going to find Taura. But realistically, Kat, do you think she’ll care? Do you think she’d help us, even if she could? Finding Taura, that’s not a real goal. It’s the one we’ve set ourselves to disguise the fact we don’t have a plan.”

“You seemed in favour back in Flotsam.”

He shrugged. “It’s been a while since me and Spade visited the south.”

“You’re southerners?”

“Grew up in the Shek Kingdom. We kind of abandoned that place, though. I’m not sure how they’ll react to us returning with cut horns.”

She winced. “Are you sure you want to go back?”

It took him a moment to answer; he seemed almost hypnotised by the swirling mists. Finally he said, “No. But if it helps Rei, feeling like we’re doing something to take control of the situation…”

Her respect for him grew a little more. “You’re doing it for Rei.”

“You’ve seen the state she’s in. She’s falling apart. Right now, I think that hopeless goal is the only thing that’s still holding her together.”

“But what do we do when we get to the south and can’t find Taura? Or she takes one look at us and laughs, or takes offence to us?”

“I don’t know,” he said sadly.

“You should tell Rei the truth,” she said.

“I can’t.” He turned his head a little, looking over at where Rei was sitting. Kat looked too. Rei was huddled on a rock far away from the others, Scrap asleep at her feet in a patch of sunlight that had escaped from the clouds. Even from this distance, Kat could see her eyes were squeezed shut, and she was flinching like someone was shouting at her. “I just hope we can find Taura.”

“But—”

“Do you really want to be the one to tell her?”

Those words haunted Kat as they resumed their journey. Rei may have been breaking – she was clearly struggling to put one foot in front of the other for reasons that didn’t just relate to physical exhaustion – but she was still determined. Now seemed like a bad time to bring up the likely futility of her efforts. Kat fell into step beside her. “How are you feeling?”

“Foggy. Like the mists.”

“You’re doing well.”

“Am I?” she said distantly.

She didn’t look as if she’d slept, even though she’d been virtually passed out the whole night. She was still horribly pale, her eyes a little wider than must have been comfortable for her. There was a slight tremor in her lips as she stared ahead of her. She really was on the verge of losing whatever grip on herself she still had. “Yeah, better than you might think. You got this.”

“You don’t need to patronise me, Kat,” she mumbled.

“I’m sorry. I just want to help.”

“Don’t bother, I’m not worth the energy… save it for walking.”

The mood was heavy as they skirted the edge of Obedience. Pia’s shoulders were slumped, and Lekko was looking miserable – not that Lekko had been happy since they’d set off from Flotsam. Kat wrinkled her nose as the mists hit her. The air was thick and suffocating and, just as Jared had said, vaguely chemical. _A graveyard._ Even if he hadn’t told her, she was sure she would have felt that strange sadness coming out of the fog.

“I can see a town,” Pia announced suddenly. She doubled back to the rest of the group so she could point it out to them. “See? There on the edge of the mists.”

Kat tilted her head, squinting to see past Pia’s finger. Even in broad daylight, it was still difficult to make it out with the foggy tendrils swirling and snaking around it. But Pia was right; there was the dark shape of a wall up there, and she thought she could see one or two people moving about.

“Holy Nation?” Kat guessed.

“No,” Lekko said, suddenly nervous, “it’s worse.” She grabbed Kat’s arm. “We need to move back. If we can see them, they can see us.”

“But why—”

“Keep your voice down,” she hissed, and pulled Kat backwards. “Come on, let’s get behind that rock.”

There was no arguing with her, and given her suddenly tight face, Kat had no desire to protest. They all ducked down behind the rocky outcrop Lekko had pointed out to them, blocking themselves from the town’s view. The twins looked similarly grim. Kat thought she saw Jared’s hand shaking as he gripped the rock. “Fogmen,” he said.

“Fogmen?”

“The Deadhive.”

Kat knew only as much about the Deadhive as what Lekko had already told her. A sudden shiver rippled through her as she remembered Lekko’s words about them eating their prey alive. “How are we going to get past them without them seeing us?” she whispered. “It’s so exposed…”

“We’ll think of a plan,” he whispered back. “Just sit tight.”

Despite his instructions, Kat found herself peering over the lip of the outcrop. It wasn’t easy to see the town, or its inhabitants. But then the mists briefly parted, and one of the shadowy silhouettes came a little closer to where they were hiding.

Kat wanted to scream, but the noise in her throat was muted by a sudden case of acid reflux. She clamped a hand over her mouth to keep the strangled, bitter-tasting sound in. The Fogman looked in Kat’s general direction, its milky-white eyes glazed over… then looked away again, moving in a stiff and jerky fashion. It was _wrong_. Kat had known Hivers, and she knew Hivers weren’t supposed to move like they were being puppeteered; nor were they supposed to have vacant expressions or unnatural, chemical-blue skin. _These things are not people…_

 _Kraaaaa_ , hissed the Fogman. Its spindly claw-like hand reached for a blunt, metal stick that had been crudely strapped to its person. Not daring to take her eyes off it when it was so close, Kat reached a hand across and tapped Jared on the shoulder. “Jared… Hivers… Deadhive…”

“Yeah?”

“Do they have a good sense of smell?”

“Normal Hivers, yeah.”

“What about… _not_ normal Hivers?”

The Fogman was looking at her again. Could it see her? Had it heard her?

Had it _smelled_ her?

“Kat,” Jared said, very quietly, “there’s some rocks behind us. About a hundred feet. When I say so, I want us all to move to it.”

“But – it might see us.”

“Kat. We’re sitting in a dangerous position. We can’t afford to stay here. Hold Rei’s hand.”

Rei’s hand was cold and clammy. Kat could feel all the little tendons move in Rei’s fingers as she closed them around hers.

“Now move slowly. No sudden movements. It will know if we’re fleeing.”

She dared not take her eyes off the Fogman. A hundred feet was a long way, especially when moving backwards and clinging on to someone else. Rei’s breathing was too loud and too fast; Kat’s own heartbeat was too loud and too fast. It didn’t matter how hard they tried to be quiet; the Fogman was standing with its head tipped to the side, as if trying to work out if something was there.

 _It’s going to eat us._ Her bare heel caught against a stone, just for a second. The sudden interruption was enough to send shockwaves of fear through her. _If I trip…_

The Fogman was coming towards them. Still curious, not hostile just yet. That made it worse, the Hive-like curiosity juxtaposed against its mindless eyes and jerky movements. It was less than ten feet away now, past the original rocky outcrop they’d sheltered behind. She heard a tiny little _snick_ sound as someone, possibly Jared, unsheathed a sword.

It stopped at that sound. Behind her, Kat heard Pia’s tiny squeak. Now it was _really_ interested. The head turned, neck stiff and jerking. The lipless mouth opened, revealing small, sharp teeth. The tongue, narrower than a human tongue, shot out as if to taste the air. Then it drew in a hissing sound, and Kat thought she heard a rattle in its throat.

_Wreeeeeeeee!_

It was fast, it was coming towards them, it was readying its stick for a blind swipe at Kat… another stone caught her foot as she tried to run and she fell, dragging Rei down with her. That sound was like a battle-cry, ready to alert the rest of the Deadhive who were prowling in their foggy town… the sharp little teeth snapped at her arm and she screamed, a real scream she couldn’t hold back any longer…

Then silence. A loud, squelching, ringing silence. She looked up, her eyes blurring and her arm stinging, staring up at the spindly figure that was now impaled on Jared’s sword. Jared pulled the sword free with a grimace, and the _thing_ that wasn’t quite Hiver collapsed like its strings had been cut. Dead, gone, spilling something viscous on the ground…

“Kat, Rei, are you hurt? Can you stand?”

Kat allowed Spade to pull her to her feet. She wasn’t sure her legs were steady enough for her to stand unaided. The body of the Fogman was twisted in death, its three-fingered hands stretching out to something only it had been able to see. _If it was able to see at all._ “That thing…”

“Come on,” said Jared, “its friends might decide to investigate after the noise it was making.”

Kat found herself being half-dragged behind the rocks she’d been trying to reach. Pia was crouched down out of sight, but Lekko was standing, as though she’d been about to intervene in the fight. When she saw Kat she hurried towards her. “Are you OK?”

“Yeah,” Kat mumbled. “Are you?”

“I’m fine.” She rubbed her face. To Kat’s surprise, there were tears in her eyes. “You look like you need to sit down.”

Spade helped Kat to sit. Lekko, who’d taken Scrap to the rocks, passed the leash to Rei, who grabbed it and clung to him as he licked her face. “I’ll get the first-aid kit.”

“Is someone hurt?” Kat said blankly.

“You are.”

Was she? She vaguely remembered those pointed teeth digging into her skin. She looked down at her arm and saw the curve of the bite mark on her flesh. The bite was deep enough to have drawn blood. “Oh.”

Lekko took hold of Kat’s arm and started dabbing it with some kind of disinfectant. Had it not been for her strong grip, Kat would have yanked her arm away. “ _Ow_.”

“Sorry, Kat. I don’t want to take any chances.”

“Chances? What do you mean?”

“The Deadhive used to be normal Hivers, you know. They don’t have a queen, they can’t reproduce. Normal Hivers that fell victim to a parasite… completely changing their natural inclinations. I don’t think the parasite affects humans, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“Wait. I could end up like one of them?”

“Lekko, I don’t think scaring her is going to—” Jared began.

“Please just let me do my job.”

Lekko’s movements were almost as jerky as the Fogman’s had been. She was a lot less careful cleaning and bandaging Kat’s arm than she normally was. At Kat’s third gasp of pain, Jared put his hand on Lekko’s shoulder. “Lekko. Let me do this.”

“I can do this just fine,” Lekko snapped.

“No, you can’t. For as long as whatever’s been affecting you recently continues to affect you, you need to take a step back.”

“Nothing’s affecting—”

“Lekko. You need to rest.”

For a second, Kat thought Lekko was going to argue. But then she shoved the medical supplies into Jared’s hands and turned her face away, pulling down the brim of her hat. Jared sighed and finished dressing the wound. “Lekko, you’re a valued member of our team, and I’m glad you’re with us. But you can’t push yourself to the point of stress and expect yourself to remain unaffected.”

“That’s not the—” She cut herself off before she could finish. “Fine.”

Kat bit her lip as she stared down at her injured arm. The presence of the Deadhive had only served to remind her that both the mists and the holy lands were very real and tangible threats. She had the horrible feeling that the lone Fogman would not be their only fight, and the next time they were attacked, they would be far less lucky.

“You feeling any better now, Kat?” Jared said.

A hopeless goal. Wasn’t that what he’d called what they were chasing? Rei would have been horrified if she’d thought they were putting their necks on the line for her sake.

 _Not a hopeless goal,_ Kat told herself. _This isn’t just for Rei’s sake._ Ava and Ruka still needed this goal, and even though Kat didn’t want to admit it to herself, she did too. That hope was not something she was ready to let go of just yet. “Yeah,” she said, resisting the temptation to rub at her throbbing arm. “Loads better. Thanks.”

Jared did not look convinced.

* * *

The rust on the ceiling of the cage was patterned in a curve, like a cruel smile. In all the time he’d called the tiny cell his home, Luquin had never noticed that.

Lying down, there was even less to look at than there was sitting up. Darkness, mostly. The electric torch-posts, their light dulled by smears of dead bugs, did not do a good job of illuminating the place. All they did was cast shadows, and Luquin’s cage was full of them.

He wished he could sit up, but six days on, the broken arm was still a shock. The short chain and the wide metal rim of the handcuffs made it impossible to lie his arm flat, and every twinge was like a fresh torture. So he lay on his back, cradling the arm the best he could, trying not to breathe too deeply or jerk his other hand. He had been right about the Warden preferring to inflict pain on someone who was recovered, and he hated that he’d been right.

Ruka was watching. She hadn’t said a word, and rolling over would have jarred the splintered bone, but Luquin knew she was watching. It had been this way for six days. He wondered whether she was concerned or simply confused. Confused, most likely; yet either way, he could not find the words to explain why he’d done what he’d done. Maybe he didn’t have them.

If it had been anyone other than the Warden who’d done this to him, Luquin would have been less afraid. After all, undisciplined torturers could take things too far. But the Warden was a master at his craft, having honed it for far more than the fifteen years Luquin had been his prisoner, and the breaking of Luquin’s arm had been an act performed with as much deliberation as the choosing of a new outfit.

During his time in Tengu’s Vault, Luquin had been beaten. Electrocuted. Suffocated. But the Warden and his guards had always stopped short of physically breaking him. Now all that had changed, and it didn’t take much of an imagination to wonder what they were going to do next. Perhaps Tengu had tired of his pet noble-killer in favour of his new noble-killers, and no longer cared if Luquin died. In spite of everything, it was not a thought Luquin wanted to entertain; wanting to die and wanting to be dead were two different things. Being dead sounded appealing. The process of becoming dead did not.

Had he saved Ava from the fate that was now his? He wanted to think so, and yet also wanted to think that nobody would bring serious harm to someone so broken and terrified. She was no soldier, he’d gathered that much. He’d thought her half a child, with her smooth complexion and bitten lips. It was only later that he’d realised she’d been older than that; mid-to-late twenties, pushing towards thirty. _A soft life._ _Not one entirely devoid of suffering… but a soft life, nonetheless._ He could see why Ruka had been so keen to protect her.

She’d begged the Warden to stop hurting him. Begged with a face of tears and snot, tried to reach him when he’d lain half-conscious with pain, only to be held back by the handcuffs. He’d looked up at her, his vision streaked with blood red and shadow black and brilliant white, and had seen how desperately she’d wanted to help him. A doctor’s instinct. He knew that much about her.

“Okranite,” he’d gasped as he’d fought to keep his mind from spiralling away, “have courage… your god is watching over you. Pray to him.”

Okran was a lie. Kral was just another dead warrior who’d rotted into bones long ago. The stars the drifters worshipped were nothing more than specks of light. But no matter the nature of the comfort blanket, it was still a thing he’d wanted to throw to her, and he’d thought she’d caught it, because she’d sniffed and stopped crying. She’d still struggled as she was dragged back to her cell, but Luquin wanted to believe he’d given her a tiny spark of hope… if the Vault hadn’t already sucked every last ounce of faith out of her.

He could tell the separation was killing Ruka. There was a lot to be gleaned from silence, even when he couldn’t see the other person. And right now, that silence pined, just as much as it feared and dreaded and tried to piece together why the madman in the cage opposite had done what he’d done. Unable to stand it any longer, he lifted his head as much as he dared and stared into those quiet, dejected eyes.

“Ruka,” he said.

“He didn’t kill you.” Her voice, though hoarse, was matter-of-fact. “I wondered if he might.”

“Been here fifteen years, lady.” Looking at her was hurting his neck, so he laid his head back down and looked at the ceiling instead. That patterned rust smiled down at him, mockingly. “I’m part of the furniture now.”

Silence. Then, “You protected her.”

The _why_ , though unspoken, screamed at him. Luquin just shrugged. The motion sent waves of pain through his arm. “Thought she could use a break. Not a literal break. Fuck it, that’s what I got.”

“And you protected me.” She suddenly sounded very Shek. Even though she was so weak, and Luquin couldn’t see her, he thought she sat up a little straighter, made herself a little taller. “We owe you. And on what’s left of my honour, I swear to you that—”

Luquin chuckled uneasily. “No need to make promises.” He shifted his arm a little to alleviate the discomfort of the handcuff pressing into his chest. “Swearing oaths to criminals isn’t a course of action I’d recommend, anyway.”

“I’ve sworn an oath to Ava.” Of course she had. “It should have been me that put myself on the torture table, instead of you. Letting you do that… that was a coward’s action. I should never have—”

“Does your honour really matter so much in a place like this?” That was the trouble with Shek; even the intelligent ones were obsessed with it. “Focus on your own self-interest. It’s a lot less likely to get you hurt.”

“I will not die a coward.”

She was hornless. That meant something to the Shek in the south. “Is that what your people called you? A coward?”

He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. A personal question, even if they’d been sharing a cell block for a month. For a moment he thought he’d offended her, but then her reply, sad and quiet, came drifting across the space between their cages. “I’m disgraced in their eyes. I will never regain my honour among my people, or with Kral. There’s no hero’s seat reserved for me in the next life. But I’ll never stop trying.”

His heart ached almost as much as his arm did. “Ruka—”

“There’s honour in oath-keeping. We have a whole culture of kin-honour, as well. I’ve made her my kin. And it should have been me who got hurt for her, and yet I let you go instead, and…” She made a strange little hiccuping sound. He wondered if it might have been a sob. “Everything I do just further proves that I deserved to lose my horns.”

“Shit, lady, here I am lying here with a busted arm and you’re crying because I took that punishment to protect you.” But Luquin was too tired to be angry. He settled for banging his head, once, against the iron floor of the cage. “When you say you’ve made her your kin…”

“I mean that I would give my life for hers. Didn’t I tell you she was worth fighting for?”

A memory stirred unbidden; a woman, mortally wounded, clawing a slaver’s eyes in a desperate bid to buy her son a little precious time. Kinship was not such a foreign concept after all, but one that was painfully close to home. “You did,” he said.

“She’s – she’s seen a lot, she’s not innocent, but… she’s nothing like any Shek I’ve ever known, nor most humans. She has no killing instinct, she wants to help and to heal and make things better. The world’s a shit place but it doesn’t seem to have gotten to her in the way it has everyone else, she’s still somehow soft and… I love her for it. Fuck, you’re the third person I’ve admitted it to. I love her, and she’s alone… alone and scared and helpless, and there’s nothing I can do, Lu. The Warden will break her, if he hasn’t already, and I can do nothing except lie here and pray I _don’t_ see her. Coz if he brings her here, that means…”

“I wish I could help you,” he said quietly. “Help both of you.”

“But you did, and I know I should be more grateful. I’m sorry.”

“Ruka.” He forced himself to look at her. He’d seen her just now, albeit briefly, but it was still a shock to see how fast Tengu’s Vault had taken its toll. Her muscles had atrophied significantly in just a few short weeks, and the weight had dropped off her formerly stocky frame like water off a rock. Even from this angle and in this light, he could tell her eyes were bloodshot. He opened his mouth again, hoping to finish whatever it was he’d wanted to say to her, but the words died in his throat. What could he say? She cared only for Ava’s safety, and Ava’s safety was something he could not guarantee. “I’ll do what I can to help her.”

“I can’t ask you to—”

“You swore an oath, right? Making an agreement that we’ll both protect her, that’s not breaking your kin-honour, is it?”

“But I don’t see why you would,” she said. “I don’t understand why you got yourself tortured for her in the first place.”

“I don’t understand either, but you might as well go with it, right? Fifteen years, probably gone a little bit insane.” He grinned at her. She did not raise a smile in return, just slumped against the bars of her cage. “You and me. We’ll protect her.”

“What do you want in return?”

“If we ever get out of this place, you can help me find a girl to celebrate with.”

The look she gave him was a pitying one. “Being a lesbian doesn’t make me your personal wingman.”

“Humour. That’s more like it.” He grinned again.

“You know, I can’t tell if you’re delirious or actually insane.”

 _Was_ he insane? He’d thought he’d kept a pretty good grip on his sanity, but then again, he hadn’t had a lot of prolonged social contact with anyone who wasn’t his torturer. Recent events had begun to lead him to question his definition of _sane_. “Can’t I be both?”

“Hmm. I think you’ll struggle to find a girl who won’t run for the hills.”

“I’ll take a bath first. And maybe get a haircut.”

“Advantage of being a Shek,” she murmured. “Your horns get cut, they stay cut.”

“I didn’t think the Shek did sarcasm.”

“Didn’t think the imperials did selflessness.”

There it was again, the image of the woman suddenly vivid in his mind. “Trust me, we can.”

“Mm. Lu?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Oh.” He realised that for once, he didn’t have a quick-fire response. “That’s OK.”

It might have cost him a functional arm, and indeed he still wasn’t sure he hadn’t made the stupidest decision since he’d gotten himself caught in the first place, but he’d made a friend. Maybe that was worth a broken bone or two. “Hang in there, Ruka. There are girls out there waiting for us.”

Ruka just smiled sadly and closed her eyes.


	12. Patrol

The hard stony ground, combined with the aches and pains of wounds old and new, did not make for a comfortable night’s sleep. Kat felt exhausted when she first closed her eyes, and just as exhausted when she opened them again. Her feet ached, her shoulders were sore from hunching against the cold all night, and her neck was horribly stiff. She sat up, trying to ease the strained tendons, and nursed the growing emptiness in her stomach. They hadn’t been able to eat lavishly back in Flotsam, not with the food shortages, but it had still been better than living on rations that were barely enough to last them. _Shit, I hope we have enough to see us to the Shek Kingdom…_

She rubbed at her itching face. To her surprise, her fingers met with healing skin, not the dressing she’d grown used to over the past four weeks. It must have fallen off in the night. Knowing that it was a bad idea, and yet unable to resist the temptation, she poked at the brand. She’d forgotten how big it was, how difficult it would be to hide. And judging by the way fluid seeped from the burn, it was not done healing yet.

Thankfully, no paladins had seen them in the night, or if they had, they had gone on their way without paying the travellers any attention. The camp was as it had been before they’d fallen asleep, except the fire had burned down into smouldering embers. Lekko, who’d taken the final watch before dawn, was propped against a rock with her eyes glazed and her head nodding. The twins were still asleep. Pia had pulled the hood of the sleeping bag over her head to keep out the cold, and was completely concealed except for her elbow. Rei was cradling Scrap, who was too big to be sensibly cradled, and had dribbled down her face in the night. Kat smiled faintly and scooted over to where Lekko was sitting.

“Are you awake, Lekko?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Supposed to be.” She stifled a yawn. “Nothing’s disturbed our camp, at least.”

“Yeah. That’s good. We got some sleep.”

“Mm. Your face…”

“I know. The bandage came off. But we can’t spare the water. I’ll just leave it.”

“If the Okranites see that, they’ll be sending us all to Rebirth.”

“If the Okranites see _any_ of us, we’re in trouble,” Kat pointed out.

“I guess that’s true.” Lekko wiped her hand on her trousers, then rubbed her eyes. “Shit, I’ve not been out in the wilds like this since… well, there was Bast, but that was a whole different scenario. It’s weird. Feels like drifting, only different.”

“Different?”

“Hmm… I don’t know how to explain it. When you lived in the swamps, what did you like to do? What were you good at?”

“Um. Dunno really. I kind of knew all the good places to put the nets to catch the fish, and I was pretty good at shouting, getting people to buy it… yelling and selling, my gran used to call it. Said I had a good pair of lungs on me. I liked singing as well. Haven’t done much of that since the swamps, but my grandmother and I, we used to sing to pass the time on quiet days when there weren’t many customers.”

“Singing,” Lekko said. “Did you ever wonder, when you were a slave, if you’d ever sing again? If you’d even be able to remember how?”

“I guess. Didn’t have a lot of cause to sing in the stone camp.”

“No,” Lekko said sadly, “guess you didn’t.”

“Why do you ask, anyway?”

“Coz… being a drifter, that’s what I was raised with. Y’know, your ma an’ pap teaching you the basics, how to hunt, how to start a fire, where to go to get the plants when you were sick or hurt…” Her accent had changed a little, shifting into something that seemed more natural for her. Kat, who’d only ever known her voice to be neutral and impossible to place, stared. “It’s only been a few years. It’s not like they stole me as a bab. Still, I… I’ve lost it. That connection with the wilds, it’s gone. The memories are still there, but… buried. And it’s all theoreticals, not intuition. It’s like thirty years of _knowing_ has gone. I don’t have the same instinct I used to. And it’s probably not coming back, because… there’s no-one of my people who can help me.”

“It’ll come back,” Kat said, in a desperate attempt at consolation. “Maybe you’re just overthinking it.”

Lekko hugged her knees, staring at the remains of the fire. “I wish that was the case.”

“I’m sorry. Losing your identity like that, it’s hard.”

“It was the last thing I had,” she said.

“Well,” Kat ventured, “maybe you could teach me some drifter songs. Then you’d feel more connected, and I’d have something to sing about.”

“Most drifter songs don’t have words. And the sound’s unique. Difficult for someone who’s been brought up on a settler’s singing style.”

“How’s it unique?”

“I don’t want to wake people up with a demonstration.”

“Oh. Can’t you do it really quietly?”

“I could try,” Lekko said doubtfully.

She cleared her throat and began to sing. Kat didn’t know a great deal about musical theory, but she could tell it was different from the way she’d learned to sing in the swamps. The melody seemed to wobble from note to note, dipping and diving like a bird trying to catch fish. Kat tried to replicate it for herself, and found that she couldn’t.

“How do you do it?” she asked.

“Imagine the notes as dots in the air. What you’re doing is taking a straight line to join the dots. Try curving the line.”

Kat tried, but the result had nothing on Lekko’s own mastery. “It definitely _sounds_ curvy,” she said.

“If you’re really interested in learning, I can teach you.”

“I’m interested,” she said, thinking of her own musical repertoire. A bawdy six verses of _Barmaid Sal_ sounded very unsophisticated by comparison. “Do any of your songs have stories attached to them? Like Barmaid Sal, laying down her life for six barrels of ale and a good shag with a paladin?”

“Um, yeah, they all have stories. Even the ones without words, they tell stories. I guess the closest thing we have to your songs would be something like… I dunno… the one about the woman made of stars who falls in love with a mortal man and comes to him every night. Not really as much of a story as you’d think. It’s more like a walking song.”

“Maybe you could sing it today, keep us all at a good pace.”

“Given as we’re in the Holy Nation, I’m giving that one a hard pass.”

“Was someone singing just now?” Rei mumbled from behind them.

“Sorry,” Kat said, “did we wake you?”

“Oh… I was sort of awake already.” She grimaced as she felt her face. “Urgh, think I swallowed some of that drool… thanks, Scrap.”

“Now Rei’s awake, we should start packing up.” Lekko leaned forward and started sweeping soil over the campfire. “Someone wake Pia and the twins. Then we can eat and be on our way. I’d be keen to get these lands over with… this isn’t a place for women any more than it’s a place for Shek.”

Once Jared, Spade and Pia were awake enough to assist with the packing, it wasn’t long before the campsite resembled just another rugged bit of land that may or may not have been used by travellers. Lekko got out the rations and passed them around, then lifted the brown paper on hers and wrinkled her nose.

“I think Spade had a point,” she said. “About the food going bad.”

“ _Is_ it bad?” Kat had a fleeting mental image of going all the way to Admag with nothing to eat.

“Not… bad as such, but… well, see for yourself.”

Kat looked at the vegetable loaf. It had not dried out properly and was still a little soggy. When she put a few crumbs on her tongue she thought she could taste chemicals.

Lekko stared despondently at the vegetable loaf. “We can’t eat this.”

“Well, we’re gonna have to,” Jared said. “Even if we sent Pia into a town, the next one on our route is Stack, and we won’t get there until mid-afternoon.”

Forcing herself to swallow down the unpalatable breakfast, Kat stretched out her legs and climbed onto the nearby outcrop they’d been sheltering behind. It wasn’t particularly tall, but it gave her a better vantage point from which to scout. The white sea of fog lay a mile or two west, the green valleys of Okran’s Pride somewhere off to the east. When she turned to look behind her, she spotted a small settlement not too far in the distance, and a number of shining figures marching out in the morning sunlight.

“Huh, lemme see,” Pia said, when Kat pointed it out. She scrambled onto the rocks and squinted at the figures. “Urgh, paladins. They ain’t coming towards us, though… they’re going east. Blister Hill, maybe?”

“The little town over there, is that—”

“Not a town,” Pia said. “Military base, I think.”

“Oh, right.”

“Only they have their own soldiers in Blister Hill and they prefer havin’ the paladins patrol the Gulf, coz of how it’s got like bandits and those scary bugmen and stuff. So I dunno why they’re going east.”

“Well, I’m not complaining,” Kat said, thinking of the last time she’d encountered a patrol. She lifted an unconscious hand to her face. “On the map… wasn’t there another military base just a bit south of here?”

“I dunno, I can’t really read maps. Or the words on ’em. Wouldn’t surprise me, though.”

“It’s important we keep our eyes peeled today.” Jared glanced again at the campsite to make sure nothing had been left, then joined Kat and Pia on the rocks. “Holy Nation’s not like the empire. You can’t bribe paladins.”

Pia’s jaw dropped. “Wait, you can _bribe_ samurai? Even if you do something wrong?”

“That’s when you generally bribe them.”

“I thought they were meant to be like, the law enforcers. How do they put the bad people in prison if the bad people just give them money?”

“They don’t. If the bad people are also the rich people, they get away with anything. Nobles being a case in point.”

“But – but why?”

“Corruption, Pia. United Cities is full of it.”

They moved off at a cautious pace, Pia scouting well ahead and Kat keeping an eye out for emergency hiding places. It wasn’t long before Kat realised her own pace wasn’t cautious so much as exhausted; her legs dragged, her feet were sore and bleeding, and the wind was fierce on her still-tender face. When she could stand it no longer she took one of the triangular sling bandages from the first-aid kit and tied it around the lower half of her face. It was a little too much of a bandit look for her liking, and even if it wasn’t, she knew it looked silly, but it concealed the brand, and kept the blowing dust out of her mouth.

They had been walking for about twenty minutes when Pia came running back to join the rest of the group.

“Paladins,” she said breathlessly. “And they saw me. I think they wanted me to stop.”

“Crap.” Jared’s eyes widened in alarm. “The rest of us will have to hide.”

“I’ll stay with Pia,” said Lekko. “Kat, you and the Shek find somewhere out of sight. We’ll distract them.”

It was like the samurai on the sands all over again, but just as Jared had said, there was no way they could get away with bribing the paladins. She grabbed Rei’s arm and pulled her into a deep crevice in the rocks. The twins joined them, jostling one another for space.

“Ow, that was my fucking _foot_ , Jared!”

“Well, if you didn’t elbow me in the ribs—”

“Oh, I’m _sorry_ , but my limbs are just a _little_ long for this.”

“Will you two be quiet?” Kat snapped; Scrap was growling next to her knees and it was making her nervous. “Lekko and Pia could be in trouble, and we’ll _definitely_ be in trouble if the paladins hear us.”

As Spade and Jared hunkered down, Kat grabbed the lip of the rock and stood on tiptoe to peer over the edge.

“I can’t see them,” she announced.

“They’ll be OK,” Spade murmured. “Right?”

“Shh!” Jared said, despite the fact he’d been arguing with Spade just a few seconds ago. “I can hear them.”

Kat stood still and listened. The wind seemed to be working in their favour, blowing the voices towards them. A number of male voices, joined with Pia and Lekko’s.

“Travelling without a husband, sister?” Kat heard one of the paladins ask.

“Yes,” Lekko replied stiffly. “My husband is missing.”

“Missing, you say? Perhaps we can assist.”

“Somehow I doubt it. He’s not a fan of the holy lands.”

“ _Ohhh_.” Even though Kat wasn’t looking at Jared, she could still hear the wince in his voice. “She’s talking to paladins. She needs to show them respect…”

“You have the look of a drifter,” said a voice. “Yes, that would explain his aversion… Narko’s spawn that you are.”

“She’s with me,” Pia burst out. “My little sister’s sick, and I’m getting medicine for her, and I met her on my way. And I know she’s a heathen and believes all this untrue stuff, but I wanna change her mind about it and bring her to Okran. And then she can tell all the other drifters about him too—”

“I appreciate your spirit, child, but women should not be teaching the faith. That is our responsibility. Drifter, if you will accompany us, we shall escort you to a place where we can better educate you…”

“Shit,” Kat breathed. “We can’t just hear them enslave Lekko and do nothing!”

“… the temple in Stack is not so far away. There you shall receive answers to your questions.”

“Holy paladin, I appreciate the time you’re taking for my sake,” Lekko said, in a tone that indicated otherwise, “but my young friend and I are heading south to Stack anyway, for the medical supplies. I see that you’re heading in a different direction. I’ll willingly go to the temple to cleanse myself of my dark ways and all that, just don’t want to put you to any trouble.”

Next to Kat, Jared was fretting. “She’s too flippant. She’s not gonna get away with it.”

“These are dark times. You two had better be very careful in these lands… particularly you, drifter. Your kind sows enough discord as it is. And let me make one thing clear. If you are caught expressing any kind of heretical belief within our borders, or practising any false heathen religion, you _will_ be purged in fire. Understood?”

“Understood,” Lekko said, her voice shaking. Kat suspected it was with anger rather than fear. “Understood very well.”

“Then be on your way.”

Kat held her breath as the paladins moved past, but they did not give the rocks a single glance. Once they’d crested a hill and disappeared from sight, the four travellers – plus an increasingly pissed-off bonedog – struggled out from the crevice they’d been hiding in.

“What was all that about, Lekko?” Jared demanded as they joined up with the two Greenlanders. “Snarking at the paladins like that, you were lucky not to get arrested. You think Rebirth won’t be full of drifters?”

“That’s why they’re fucking bastards!” Lekko shouted. “Treating my people like that… we don’t invite people to share in our beliefs like they do. We don’t _spread_ anything, discord or otherwise. It’s just more – more anti-drifter sentiment, wrapped up in religious zealotry—”

“Lekko, you’re talking to a Shek. Do you think I don’t understand? Do you think if _I’d_ been the one with Pia, they’d have let me go with a couple of insults?”

“Are you trying to say drifter prejudice doesn’t matter?”

They were standing far too close together for Kat’s liking. Realising that Lekko was almost certainly angry enough to start a fight with a six-foot-tall Shek, Kat grabbed her arm and pulled her back. Spade caught Kat’s eye and did the same with Jared, so the two of them could do nothing but glare at one another.

“I’m not trying to say anything,” Jared said.

“At least you can fucking get away from it by going anywhere but the Holy Nation!”

“OK, OK. Guys.” Seeing that Rei had shrunk away from all the shouting, Kat was beginning to wish she too could get away, for the sake of her eardrums. “Let’s just move on. Literally. We wanted to be out of the holy lands as soon as we could, didn’t we?”

“Yeah,” Lekko muttered, with a final angry glance at Jared, “away from the fucking Okranites.”

“Great. Let’s go, then.”

All in all, it was not a pleasant atmosphere. The terrain was rocky and difficult to navigate, and Kat turned her ankle more than once on the uneven ground. At some points it was very windy and exposed, and even though there was good visibility, there was still the ongoing fear that paladins might see them. _Or bandits, or bonedogs._ They may have been lucky on those two fronts, but it didn’t mean they weren’t still a potential threat.

“You know, I never been this far south,” Pia said as they walked. It was the first time she’d spoken since talking to the paladins, and her voice still betrayed a slight tremor.

“Haven’t you?” Kat said distantly, still thinking of the argument.

“Nah. I never really been that many places at all, to be honest. But you have, right? You came from all the way down in the swamps, right? And you went up the Holy Nation and then all the way through to the desert, right?”

“Uh… right. Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

“Are there lots of storms in the desert? Like dust-storms?”

“Loads. Honestly, there were some days in the slave-camp we couldn’t even see the rocks we were chipping. And the sand was choking and you breathed it in and… I probably still have sand in my lungs, you know.”

“Oh, I’d hate that. I swallowed a bit of dust last night, least I think it was dust. You couldn’t eat sand, could you, if you were starving?”

“Um, no. Believe me, I did try.”

“Oh, right. Well, I dunno about the desert, I dunno much about a lot of things to be honest. Blister Hill was like, green. And the farms grew like, wheatstraw and stuff, but I dunno much about that either, I just sort of stayed in the house with Naevia and did housework. Oh, and we went to church on Prayer Day as well.”

“What did your parents do? If you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh, no, I don’t mind, I like questions. My dad was a cobbler. He made boots. Maybe he still does, I dunno. I think maybe… maybe my parents aren’t alive anymore, coz of what me and Naevia did.”

“Because you ran away and joined Flotsam?”

“Yeah, um… apparently lots of girls were running away from Blister Hill. They sort of stepped up their efforts on getting Moll arrested, sending paladins out to look. But obviously they never caught her. You know, I once asked Moll if she was really a witch, like the paladins said she was. She said she was very good at enchanting women.”

Kat chuckled a little, thinking of Yayoi. “Can’t be much fun, being a girl in the Holy Nation. Although… Ava was a doctor. Or maybe she passed herself off as an assistant. Either way, guess it didn’t go that well for her if she had to run away.”

“Ava sounds cool. I’d like to meet her.”

“Well… when we rescue her and Ruka, I’ll introduce you.”

“Um. Kat?”

“Yeah?”

Pia audibly gulped. “I don’t wanna be the one to say this, but… do you really think this Taura person is gonna help us? Coz, Tengu’s Vault, that’s… even _I_ know stuff about that place. We can’t just walk in with a few crappy swords and do a rescue. I don’t know that much about the Shek, but… they surely ain’t gonna raise a big army and march it all across the Holy Nation and then all across the desert and attack the Vault. Not for some random person they probably don’t all know. And your Shek friend _did_ break the law, like Ava did. I ain’t saying she deserves it, I ain’t saying Ava deserves it, I ain’t saying you and Rei deserve it. But it wasn’t like they were kidnapped.”

“I know,” Kat said heavily. “I know we don’t really have a chance. I just wanted to try.”

“Oh. Well, what are we gonna do if our plan doesn’t work?”

“I hadn’t really thought that far ahead,” she admitted, rubbing her itching face under the makeshift scarf. She was pretty sure some dust had gotten into the brand. “We could stay in the Shek Kingdom for a bit. Then decide what to do. Maybe we’ll go our separate ways, I dunno.”

“Split up?” Pia’s eyes widened. “Oh, but then I’d have to choose who I wanted to go with…”

“Sorry, Pia. It wasn’t fair of us to drag you on this… quest or whatever the fuck it is.”

“No,” Pia said bravely, “it’s OK. I didn’t want to stay in Flotsam.”

The arid lands of Okran’s Gulf may not have been quite as hot and sandy as the Great Desert, but they still made for difficult terrain. In some ways, it was easier to walk on the hard rocky ground than it was the sinking sand, but it was harder and more painful on Kat’s feet. The next time they took a break she inspected her soles, while Pia sat by and watched with concern.

“That looks painful,” she said.

“It’ll be OK,” Kat replied, poking a ballooning white blister. “It’ll harden into calluses. You’ll see.”

“Yeah, but like… how long’s that gonna take? How long have you been going barefoot?”

“I wore boots, between being a slave and getting captured by Okranites. Must’ve been two months or so. Think that was enough to soften up my feet.” She set her feet on the ground with a grimace. “Everything fucking aches.”

“You hurt your arm as well, right?”

“Yeah. Can’t really feel it, with all the rest.” Kat rubbed the sweat off her forehead. “Urgh, just listen to me… I don’t even have it as bad as the others, and I’m sitting here complaining.”

“It won’t be long,” Pia said. “It won’t be long before we can go to a town, and maybe some point soon we can find a nice one that we can settle down in. Ooh, imagine getting a little house. We could all live together, like housemates.”

Kat let out a hollow laugh. “Jared and Lekko are on the verge of killing each other. I don’t think our group would make very good housemates.”

“Maybe. Maybe they’re just stressed. If we had like, nice comfy beds to sleep in and lots of hot food and we didn’t have to worry about cannibals or paladins or anything like that, maybe we’d all get along better.”

“Maybe.”

“You know what I really want? I want a bath. Like, with really steaming hot water. And soap. The fancy people have special soaps for their hair. I want some of that too. And I want soft towels and nice clean clothes and then I want to lie down in a really comfy bed and fall asleep for two days.”

“Yeah,” Kat said, scraping dirt off her skin with her fingernail, “I want that too.”

“You ever have all that in the swamps?”

“Ha, no.”

“I wish they liked us in Stack. Then we could go in and get beds in the flophouse.”

“Speaking of Stack, I hope we can pass that place before it gets dark. I’d rather sleep in the Hub tonight.”

But to Kat’s dismay, they were still in Okran’s Gulf by the time the sun went down, and the lights of Stack were clearly visible in the distance. Scrap stuck close to the group, growling; Kat suspected he could smell bonedog dens nearby. “How close are we to Vain?”

“Oh, that’s a good point.” Lekko slowed her pace. “I’d rather keep near to Stack. Wind’s an easterly one.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Pia said.

“Means it’s blowing our scents right into Vain. Gutters hunt by smell. The darkness won’t faze them.”

“Gutters?” Pia squeaked. “You ain’t talking about _beak things_?”

“They don’t tend to leave their territories. Still, we’re taking chances if we get too close.” Lekko pivoted slightly, changing angle so they were less parallel. “Much as I hate paladins, we still stand a better chance against them than we do gutters.”

“I don’t like the paladins either,” Pia said. “All they do is hate stuff. That’s not what Okran’s meant to be about, you know. Okran’s about, like, love and things.”

“Love and things,” Kat said sceptically. “I don’t think most people would agree with you there.”

“Well, something has to love us,” Pia said. “The bonedogs an’ raptors an’ bandits, they don’t love us.”

“And the beak things,” Kat added.

“An’ the… you know, I never seen a beak thing.”

“Me neither. Ava and Ruka did, though.”

“Ooh, where?”

“I can’t remember. Somewhere east of the swamps, I think. Maybe Venge.”

“Venge,” Lekko said with a shudder. “The most forsaken place on the damn map.”

“Why’s it bad?” Pia asked.

“The sky rains fire, there are headless Skeletons running around and that’s without even worrying about the blood spiders and beak things. Seriously. Not worth going there unless you have a death wish. I don’t know how your friends survived it, Kat.”

“Headless Skeletons?” Kat queried.

“Yeah, I heard that if you take the heads off they lose their free will… thralls, they’re called. Some ancient dictator decided to make a bunch of ’em. They’ll kill organic things… they’ll kill anything, really. Like that parasite that afflicts the Fogmen.” Her voice grew suddenly sad. “It’s horrific. Seeing intelligent beings turning into mindless… drones like that.”

“The Hive?” Spade snorted. “Intelligent?”

“Yes, Spade, intelligent,” Lekko shot back. “Just because they don’t think in the way other people do, it doesn’t mean they _don’t_ think.”

“Guess you’re right,” Spade said darkly. “They’re pretty intelligent scammers.”

“Sister, you can’t say that about the Hive,” Jared protested. “The number of times Beanhop saved your arse…”

“Beanhop doesn’t count. He’s not even part of the Hive anymore.”

Leaving the lights of Stack well behind them, they continued onwards towards the Hub. But it was fast becoming too dark to see, and the Sentinels, which would normally have illuminated their way, were blotted out by cloud. Even Lekko was struggling to navigate; at several points, the thick, murky smell of damp vegetation wafted under their noses, and tingling rain splattered their exposed skin. They were getting dangerously close to gutter territory, and once or twice Kat swore she heard bestial growls and shrieks in the distance.

“Those aren’t beak things, are they?” she said.

“Sounds like gorillos to me,” Lekko replied.

“Are they dangerous?”

“Things don’t survive in Vain unless they’re dangerous.”

It would perhaps have been advisable to find a safe place to spend the night, but with all the dangers of Okran’s Gulf and its neighbouring territories, they had little desire to stop. By the time they reached the Hub, it was almost morning again, and Kat was ready to collapse with exhaustion.

“This place is safe, right?” Pia said. “No paladins? Or beak things?”

“If that’s how you want to define safe, then yeah, it’s safe.” Lekko was peering into the shadows. “Watch out for unsavoury types. Thieves, outlaws, slavemongers… we need to keep our heads down and not draw attention.”

Kat had once spent a night in the Hub, back in the days when she’d been with Longstoat. It had disappointed her back then, with its collapsed walls and ruined buildings and lack of guards, but now she saw safety in its lawlessness. She readjusted her scarf, which had slipped down past the brand, and found a sheltered spot behind a rubble pile where they could rest.

“That statue we passed,” Pia said. “The one that’s collapsed. I couldn’t get a good look, but it looks like the statues of the Phoenix we had back in Blister Hill.”

“Yeah,” Jared said as he settled down, “this place used to be part of the Holy Nation.”

Kat blinked. “It did?”

“The Shek Kingdom took it, but wasn’t able to hold it. They died, as did the paladins who tried to take it back. They say the Hub can’t be held, that it’s cursed. Or haunted…”

“ _Haunted_?” Pia squeaked.

“Don’t worry, Pia. The ghosts round here are friendly, so long as you don’t get on their bad side.”

As Pia shivered at the thought of ghosts and Lekko unpacked the sleeping bags, Kat crawled over to where Rei was lying, half-slumped, against the dusty rocks.

“You OK?” she whispered.

“Fine. Why?”

“You’ve hardly said a word to any of us.”

Rei’s eyes were like stone. She didn’t even turn her face towards Kat’s. Scrap, on the other hand, stared at Kat with wide eyes and aggressive teeth, a low growl escaping his throat. He kept it up until she’d backed away, then put his head on Rei’s legs and fell silent. In that moment, it occurred to Kat that all the times she’d fussed over him as a puppy were long gone. There was no escaping the fact he now saw her as a threat to his mistress, and would stop at nothing to protect Rei.

“I’ll let you rest,” Kat said, trying to pretend it was her choice. She moved a safe distance away, pulling the sleeping bag around herself as a shield from the cold. But even as she closed her eyes, she knew that Scrap was still watching, and she knew that she would never again sleep comfortably in his presence.


	13. Squin

The morning sunshine may have been warm, but the icy cold had never left. Rei stared up at the sparse clouds in a deep blue sky and wondered why her body was still so keen to keep her alive.

She could feel nothing, and yet she could feel everything. Sharp jagged rocks clawed into her back like fingers, and the desperate fluttery beat of her heart sent tremors running into every vein, every muscle, every tiny fragment of exhausted tissue. The shadows lurked out of reach of sight and hearing, but logic told her they were still there, snaking themselves around the severed head like a ghostly body. The head smirked silently at each dying heartbeat, and as the smirk deepened, a little more of Rei was stolen away by the shadows.

She wished she could scream. Haga hadn’t liked her screaming. She remembered all too well the suffocating gag of the pillows as he’d forced her face into them. All she’d been able to do was sob tearless sobs, with his sharp fingernails digging through her flesh and his hot breath on her face. Now she couldn’t even sob, as much as she wanted to.

 _It’s too much,_ her mind told her wearily. And it was. The honour lost, the blood spilled, the failure that had awaited her at every turn. And the failure had come at more than just her expense, too. A terrified escaped slave, placing all his hope and trust in Rei, only to be dragged into a cannibal camp and brutally hacked to pieces. A scientist striving to make the world a more enlightened place, murdered along with his colleagues for a crime he hadn’t known he’d committed. A woman who’d dreamed of discovering lost technology and blazing the trail for new forms of medicine, probably now tortured to insanity with no hope of seeing the outside. They had been innocents, and had it not been for Rei and her bad decisions, they might have been alive. Alive, and free, and changing things for the better.

The biggest cruelty was that she was still free to make mistakes, when others had not been afforded the same. There had been points where she had wondered if it was a punishment, or simply a horribly misguided mercy on fate’s part. There had been many more points where she had wondered if her continued existence was one mistake she perhaps ought to fix.

But right now, she couldn’t fix it. She was made of iron, heavy and rigid, unable to even raise her head. The clouds were blurry, the overwhelming blueness of the sky sending little floating specks dancing across her retinas. Her eyes ached with the brightness, but she found herself unable to close them. There was too much visual information, even though the sky was relatively plain and uniform, and it was enough to make her brain swerve into light-headedness. She lay there, hoping she might pass out completely, but her body refused to oblige.

“Rei? You need to get up, we’re leaving.”

Scrap’s heavy form stirred on her numb legs. She mumbled something to Lekko, not quite knowing what she had said, and made a concerted effort to sit. It didn’t work on the first try, nor the second. Eventually Lekko braved Scrap and came over to help. Rei flinched as her callused hands scratched against bare skin.

“You’re not about to collapse, are you? You don’t look well.” Lekko peered intently into Rei’s face for a moment. “Wouldn’t want a repeat of last time.”

“Last time?” Kat queried.

“She nearly passed out on the path up to World’s End, almost fell over the edge… then collapsed in the town. We had to carry her to the University.”

“I’m not going to pass out,” Rei said, but she thought it might be a lie. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d eaten. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“OK.” Rei could tell Lekko didn’t believe her. “Stay with me and Kat, walk between us. If you _do_ feel like you might faint, try and give some advanced warning.”

She nodded vaguely. She was about to try walking when Jared, who was in front of her, suddenly stopped. Distant shouts echoed off the crumbled walls of the town and the surrounding cliffs, and dark figures darted across Rei’s fuzzy vision.

“What’s going on?” she mumbled.

“Bandits,” Jared said. “Guards are dealing with them.”

“Guards? Thought there weren’t guards.”

“No official town guards. Just the Trade Ninjas and the Shinobi.”

“The Shinobi?” Lekko said. “You mean the assassins?”

“Only _some_ are assassins. Most of them are just fences. And smugglers. Still, I wouldn’t get on their bad side.”

The fight had ended before it had really started. Rei stared at the scene of carnage. There were maybe a dozen bandits, scrawny and wearing filthy rags, lying in the blood-soaked dust. Pia let out a little squeak at the sight and put a hand to her mouth.

“They shouldn’t have picked that fight,” Jared said matter-of-factly, stepping over the twitching bodies.

 _Too much blood._ Rei closed her eyes, but the picture was branded into her soul. Someone, possibly Kat, took her by the arm and led her past the dead and dying vagrants. The few guards who had not disappeared into the shadows were grumbling amongst themselves. “Damn lowlifes, trying to steal from us…”

“The ghosts you said about, Jared,” Pia blurted out. “There ain’t actually ghosts, are they? It was the thieves and stuff, what you were talking about. That’s why they ain’t able to hold the Hub, right?”

“What? Oh, yeah.”

“ _Ha_ ,” Pia said proudly. “I knew it. But some people, they think there’s ghosts in the Hub, right?”

“Not just some people. All the paladins do. It’s why they keep away.”

“You used to do lots of treasure hunting in like, old ruins and stuff. Did you ever meet a ghost? Ooh, or a grievewraith?”

Jared held up a hand. “Not right now, Pia.”

“Urgh, fine. If you don’t wanna talk to me, I won’t talk, just don’t expect me to—”

“Pia, there are slavemongers up ahead.”

Pia fell silent. Kat, on the other hand, had immediately begun to panic. “Fuck. What do we do? We look like escaped slaves…”

“Pia,” Jared interrupted, “walk in front of us and try and look assertive. Just in case.”

“Ass… asser… wassat?”

“Confident. Look confident.”

“Oh,” Pia said with an audible gulp, “is it another of these?”

“Let’s hope not.”

The slavemonger squad exclusively consisted of Greenlanders, with the exception of a fully-grown bonedog. The bonedog snarled at Scrap as they passed each other on the path, and Rei felt a tug on the rope as Scrap snarled back. The slavemongers paused for a moment and looked over the group.

“Better watch yourselves,” one of them said, and they set off again, heading for the south gate of the Hub.

“Do you think they’re gonna enslave the bandits?” Kat said. “The ones who stole from the Hub?”

“Maybe,” Lekko replied. “If any of them are still alive.”

“Couldn’t we do something?”

“Best we can do is walk in the opposite direction and hope they don’t change their minds about us.” But Lekko’s hand shook as she tugged the brim of her hat. “First the paladins, now slavemongers… we seem to have been getting a lot of threats lately.”

The threat may have been a passing one, but the mood had been set, and it was an anxious group that carried on down the road to Squin. Even if Rei’s mind didn’t consciously register that tension, she could feel it squeezing at her heart, and the cold sweat on her back wasn’t just because of the climbing sun. As if sensing that she was struggling, Kat glanced over with Haga’s gloating yellow eyes.

“Rei? Do you need to rest?”

“No.”

“OK.” She slowed her pace a little to match Rei’s. It placed the pair of them at the back of the group, but the others didn’t appear to have noticed. “You know, it’s kind of peaceful out here. Can you hear the birds?”

Rei couldn’t, and didn’t care to. “Why did you tell the twins?”

“Tell them what?”

“You told them I was crazy.” The second betrayal. This one hadn’t stung nearly so much as the first, but being trapped inside her head with a swirling vortex of thoughts had brought it to the forefront of her mind. “That I was seeing stuff. Hearing stuff.”

“I’m sorry,” Kat said, very quietly. “I wanted to help you.”

“Weird way of helping.”

Scrap was staring at Kat’s exposed calves like he wanted to sink his teeth into them. Kat had noticed, and her expression switched from one of guilt-stricken wretchedness to one of fear. “I didn’t want you to be alone.”

“Because you don’t trust me when I’m alone, is that it?”

“I do trust you, Rei.” The scarf had slipped again, revealing the livid brand. The tip of her nose was twitching with some emotion Rei couldn’t read. “But I don’t want you to feel like you’re isolated from everyone else.”

“And letting people think I’m even more unstable, that’s going to make them want to talk to me?”

“I just wanted to help. Rei…”

“Please leave me alone.”

Kat left her alone. Rei stared at the back of her head as she rejoined the rest of the group and wondered when things had gone so wrong. They’d never been entirely right, of course – the circumstances of their friendship had always seen to that. But now the gulf between them was more than just a few apologetic steps away, and Rei had no idea how to bridge that gap. She had no idea if she even wanted to.

 _They’ll abandon you, you know,_ Haga sniped. _Once they realise you really are a liability._

Liability. She hated that word as much as she hated Haga. “Fuck you. You aren’t even there.”

_Then why are you speaking to me like I am?_

The arid dust swirled around her boots with every step, dulling the leather. Every step was a little less bright, a little less defined. That mist that had violated her in the Floodlands was beginning to creep at the corners of her vision. One step on the road to madness, and another, and another… _Liability. Liability. Liability._

She was not even aware they were stopping until she’d sat down with all the others. Food was brought out, a waterskin or two passed around. She drank some of the water but could not stomach the chemical taste of the rations, and everyone was too busy grimacing over their own food to notice she wasn’t eating again. A few conversations took place, but despite Rei’s best efforts, she wasn’t able to really engage with what they were saying. It was just further proof that she didn’t know how to interact or make herself liked, and that Haga’s prophecy would soon come true. They would leave her, to go her own way or die, and this time she knew what the outcome would be…

 _I have Scrap,_ she tried to reassure herself, as she fed him the rations Lekko had given her.

By noon they were most of the way to Squin, and the landscape was beginning to change as the Border Zone slowly merged with the Stenn. The rocky terrain was more akin to Bast than to the Great Desert, but this was a desert nonetheless; winds whispered as they swept dust across the wastes, and the only real foliage seemed to be large, rounded plant-like things with long spikes. Pia went up to take a closer look at one of these, but she misjudged the length and sharpness of the spines, and she yelped as it snagged her trouser leg. Lekko sighed and slipped her bag off her shoulders so she could retrieve the first-aid kit.

“Hey, Kat, that necklace thing of yours…” Spade said suddenly.

Kat had been sitting on a rock while Lekko saw to Pia’s bleeding leg. She’d leant forward to rub at her blistered feet, and the medallion Goren had given her had slipped out from under her shirt. Now she raised a defensive hand to touch it, as if Spade was accusing her of something. “What about it?”

“Take it off.”

“Take it _off_?”

“That’s a Shek thing you’re wearing. They might take offence to a flatskin wearing it.”

“It was a gift.”

“Do you think they’ll fucking care? All they’ll see is you’ve got a warrior’s token, and believe me, you do _not_ want to get on the wrong side of the warriors…”

“She’s right,” Jared said, poking at his rations, “it’s just asking for trouble. Leave it in your pocket, or something.”

Very reluctantly, Kat pulled the chain over her head and slipped the medallion into the pocket of her trousers. “If I lose this…”

“Which would you rather lose? Your necklace or your life? And Pia, you should probably be careful with who sees those prayer beads. We don’t want to do anything that might piss them off.” He ran a hand over his shortened horns. “We’re already gonna piss them off, as it is.”

“Will they attack us?” Pia said nervously.

“What? Oh, no… they’ve kind of opened their gates to foreigners, for trade and stuff. But it’s a recent thing – happened after Spade and I left, anyway – and not everyone is happy with it.”

“Is there anything else we need to know?” Lekko asked. “Before we go marching into Squin?”

“Don’t say hello to anyone. Don’t stare at their horns, and make sure you stay close to me or Rei.”

“Why you two?”

“Coz we’ve got the biggest swords.” He grinned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “And size matters among the Shek.”

“Right. Uh, what’s that about not saying hello?”

“It’s a mark of respect, so you don’t want to say it too casually to people. And to be honest, all of you lot – with the possible exception of me and Spade – are gonna be seen as outlanders, so you pretty much have the status of dirt in Shek society. Anyway, there’s a whole ritual to greetings. Get it wrong and you might find yourself honour-duelled. Don’t worry,” he added, “Spade and I know our way around the various social niceties. Just stick with us and we’ll be fine.”

“I hope you’re right,” Lekko said doubtfully.

“Hey, drifter, we trust you to know how to drift, so have a little faith in us when it comes to being a Shek, all right?”

Lekko looked like she wanted to say something in response to that – perhaps a pointed remark that the twins had, in fact, questioned her drifting skills before now. But she just shook her head and tipped her hat so the brand at the back of her neck was covered. “Last stop before Admag, right? Let’s get this over with.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Kat.

* * *

Squin was an unusual town, its dimensions long and narrow to accommodate the walls of the canyon it was situated in. Kat had never seen anywhere quite like it, and found herself staring around with an interest she hadn’t felt in weeks. The town’s inhabitants had clearly made use of every inch of available space, building up onto the walls of the canyon where they could. Still, the limitations of the terrain dictated that it was a small town, and there were only a handful of guards on the gate when they walked through.

“Watch your fragile bones, flatskins,” one of them grunted. “And you too, hornless.”

“Another threat?” Lekko murmured.

“Don’t worry,” Jared said, “I’m sure we’ll get plenty more just walking through.”

Pia, who’d been visibly jumpy as they’d walked past the guards, had recovered quickly and was waxing ecstatic about everything she saw. Kat supposed it was her first time in a proper town that wasn’t Blister Hill. “Look, there are flags and things, I never seen so many flags in one place before, not even when the Phoenix sent out armies from the barracks with their banners, I wonder what they all mean. Do _you_ know, Jared?”

“I only recognise the flag with the circle and the three-pointed star,” Jared said. “It’s the sigil of the Shek Kingdom. The other flags, though…”

“Maybe we’ve arrived in the middle of a festival,” Spade said doubtfully.

“Hmm. I don’t like the look of it, to be honest.”

“Me neither.”

But after the long, exhausting trek of the previous day, the group’s appetite for more walking had waned significantly. They sat in the shade of the canyon wall between two shops, while Lekko took inventory of the food and water.

“We’ll need to get some more,” she said.

“In the morning,” Jared replied, closing his eyes. “We can try and get a good breakfast before we go.”

“We don’t have that much money.”

“How much do we have?”

“About two thousand cats.”

Jared swore. “Save it for Admag. When we know how the whole Taura situation is gonna play out.”

“Speaking of, do we have a backup plan?”

“We’ll think of one.”

“That’s reassuring,” Lekko mumbled, but there was no fight in her voice. She lay down and covered her face with the hat, her breathing growing louder and slower. Pia fiddled with the buckle on her bag. Rei sat huddled up with Scrap, her face tight and worried, but after the exchange they’d had earlier, Kat didn’t dare approach her.

“People are giving us funny looks,” Pia remarked as a trio of angry-looking warriors marched past them.

“I know,” Jared said. “I’m thinking this might not be the best place for us to spend the night.”

“We’re not going to get all the way to Admag though, are we?” Kat said. “Not before sunset, at any rate.”

“No, we’re not. And you wouldn’t want to be out in the Stenn after dark. Too many bonedogs.” Jared frowned and shot a quick look at Spade. “Spade, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Huh? I’m still thinking about breakfast, so probably not.”

“We need to work on our twin telepathy,” he said. “You remember what’s between here and Admag?”

“What? Oh. No. _No_. That’s a bad idea, Jar. That’s a really bad idea.”

“Is it?”

“We agreed we wouldn’t go back!” Spade was sitting with her arms folded, her lips tight and set. “We go back, they’ll kill us.”

“They won’t kill us—”

“I didn’t mean literally.”

“ _These_ people, on the other hand, just might.”

Pia had only been half-right about the looks they’d been getting; Kat could sense the hostility radiating off the locals. Spade’s slightly raised voice hadn’t helped matters, either; more and more people were staring.

“I can’t believe _you’re_ the one suggesting this,” Spade snapped. “We all need rest, anyway. Look, if we get trouble here, we can handle it.”

“Don’t you see the way they’re looking at us? All I’m saying is—”

“ _No_ , Jared.”

They glared mutinously at one another for a few moments, and it was impossible to tell who would be the one to back down. Finally, Jared threw up his hands with an exasperated sigh. “Fine. We stay here and rest.”

“I think that might be for the best,” Lekko murmured from under her hat.

Kat, who wasn’t at all sure she could face another few hours of walking, was not about to argue Jared’s case. Her limbs felt weak and tired and heavy, and her head already ached from the sun. But as people walked past their resting place, she realised her instincts cared very little for her own state of physical exhaustion. _Run, run, run._

“First our cities fall, and now we open our gates to outsiders,” a contemptuous voice said. “A bunch of flatskins and dishonoured hornless. What next? Shall we invite the Okranites in, too?”

“They really don’t like us,” Pia mumbled as the man moved past.

“That’s pretty normal,” Jared replied. “For anyone who’s not a warrior.”

“But you and Spade, you fight, right?”

“Yeah, but we’re Tech Hunters. Tech Hunters don’t have the best reputation among the Shek… Besides, we’re hornless.”

“I been wondering, what _does_ the hornless thing mean? Like, does it mean you’re a slave, like it does in the United Cities?”

“Or the Holy Nation,” Kat muttered.

“In the United Cities, having cut horns doesn’t _necessarily_ mean you’re a slave,” Lekko chimed in. “People sometimes do it for cosmetic reasons. Like the nobles, so they can wear – I dunno, nice hats and shit.”

“Hats,” Jared said contemptuously. To Pia he added, “If you can’t cut it as a warrior, through being too weak or too scared or just by doing something that the Shek see as dishonourable, you lose your horns. It’s usually done publicly… it’s cause for great shame, for you and your family.”

“Huh,” Kat said. “Goren still had horns.”

“Goren?”

“Saved Ruka’s life, back when we lived in the desert. But he wasn’t a warrior. He was a doctor.”

“Most Shek doctors are battlefield doctors,” Jared explained. “Even if they’re doctors first and foremost, they’re still warriors.”

“Oh. Oh, right.”

Lekko’s hat fell onto her lap as she sat up. “Speaking of warriors, we should find a place to sit that’s more private. I don’t like the looks we’re getting.”

But with Squin’s buildings stacked up the canyon, finding a tucked-away spot proved difficult. Everywhere seemed to be within sight of somebody’s front door, and it felt like a gamble, trying to determine who might be least offended by a group of weary outsiders curling up outside their house. Finally Lekko, with the twins’ assistance, settled on a cramped little space at the back of a smithy. Even from this side of the wall, the smell and the heat of the forge was intense. Kat shrank away, the iron anvil suddenly very cold on her face.

“You OK, Kat?” Lekko said.

“I’m fine, just—” She shrugged helplessly and gestured towards the weeping brand. A look of sudden understanding came over Lekko’s face, and she moved over to where Kat was standing. “It’s OK, I’m sorry…”

“No need to apologise. Come with me, we’ll move away from it.”

“But we shouldn’t split the group,” Kat mumbled as Lekko steered her back onto the main street.

“We’ll be fine for a few minutes. Do you need to sit down?”

“I…” She’d overreacted, that was all, nothing that warranted a kindly hand on her shoulder and a worried pair of eyes. And even if she hadn’t, she’d done enough damage that gentle reassurances were both futile and undeserved. She swallowed down her feelings and stared into the canyon-dust, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t upset Lekko. “Th-thanks for the concern, but really, I’m…” Fine? Not worth the trouble? _Falling to pieces._ “I’m…”

“There’s some shade here. I can get you some water if you need it.”

“No… save it, please…”

Her legs didn’t want to operate properly, and her blistered feet were screaming at her. She sat down with more force than she’d intended, landing hard on the ground. Lekko sat next to her, watching her from under the brim of her hat. “I know this is difficult for you, Kat.”

“No, I’m fine, I’m managing…”

Lekko’s piercing gaze was enough to make Kat squirm. “I think we both know _that_ isn’t true.”

“I have to manage. I _have_ to.”

“Kat,” she said softly, “being tough isn’t the same as being emotionless.”

“Doesn’t matter, coz I’m not tough, am I…”

“You are,” Lekko said.

Tough people didn’t curl up at night hating the gnawing helplessness inside them. Tough people didn’t hide themselves away for days on end. Tough people weren’t afraid of a little fire. “If I was _really_ tough, I’d…” She paused, suddenly realising she didn’t know. “I’m not some… some soldier, like the people out here in Squin.”

“You might not be a soldier, but you’re the scrappiest little fighter I’ve ever met. And I’ve known a lot of drifters, so take that as a big fucking compliment. Kat, you escaped the slave camp. You escaped the quarries at Rebirth. Even when you could have died, you gritted your teeth and pulled yourself through. There are people twice your age who couldn’t have done that. Shit, _I’m_ twice your age and I don’t think I could have done half of what you did. And all that in just a few months, if not weeks. You’re tough, you’re a survivor. But like I said, it doesn’t mean you don’t have emotions. You’ve been under a lot of pressure, a lot of stress. And all that stress and fear and hurt has to go somewhere.”

“I’m not—” Kat had no idea what she was even denying anymore. She rubbed her sweating face with a dusty hand and tried to think. “What does it matter, anyway? We get to Admag, we talk to Taura, everything will work out… or something…”

“But you know the plan probably won’t work out. As do the rest of us. Shit, I think even Rei knows it.”

“It’s my only hope, Lekko. Without this plan, we have nothing.”

“We have each other,” Lekko corrected. “Me, you, Pia, Rei, the twins – we’re a team. I know it probably feels like you’re alone right now, but I promise you you’re not. We’re here for you. And _even_ if the others disagree with me – which I very much doubt, by the way – I’m here. And I want to help.”

The gentleness in her voice was all it took, as Kat felt the months of misery and humiliation and powerlessness swim to the surface. She hadn’t thought about it so much on a conscious level, that loss of personhood associated with slavery, but now those hollow little thoughts that had crawled into her ears as she’d lain awake at night were coming back to her. A thing. She’d been a thing to shave, to brand, to abuse and starve and put to work – not once but twice, and the second time by people who had acknowledged she was a person and done those things anyway. “I don’t think you can help, Lekko.”

“Your Shek friend. The disgraced warrior. She lost all this, right?” Lekko gestured at the town. “When she left. It can’t have been easy for her. But… do you think she might have found something along the way?”

Ava. Kat hadn’t forgotten the softness in Ruka’s eyes whenever she’d spoken about her. “I guess.”

“Sometimes we do lose things. Dignity, freedom, our loved ones… and those aren’t always losses we can get over. But we can find things too.”

Everything she’d found seemed to have slipped away just as it had appeared. Kat didn’t answer, not trusting herself to speak. Lekko must have realised, because she reached for both Kat’s hands and held onto them. “I found you and Rei. And Kat, you mean more to me than just the scrappy fighter who set me free. You know what I’m like. I didn’t exactly make a lot of friends in the stone camp…” Her ears reddened and she dipped her head, hitting Kat in the face with her hat. “Shit, sorry. This thing’s a nightmare… Point is, if I ever can help you, I – I want to. I don’t want you to feel alone. And…” She looked up again, promptly forgetting the hat’s wide brim, but this time Kat anticipated it and moved back in time. “Your song about shagging paladins.”

“Wait, what?”

“The one you were telling me about yesterday morning. I’d like to hear it at some point.”

Kat smiled faintly. “My grandmother always hated me singing it.”

“Is that a hint that I’m too old to enjoy a good dirty song?”

“You’re not exactly _old_.”

“Dunno, sometimes I feel it.” She sighed. “You feeling any better?”

“Maybe a bit.” It wasn’t strictly true, but it wasn’t strictly a lie, either. “Thanks.”

“And Kat, you’re allowed to struggle. I think I’ve said this before, but we want the best for you. Let us support you – hey, it’s OK.”

Kat hadn’t intended to sob, but the little hiccuping breath she’d just taken sounded very much like one. Lekko squeezed her good hand. Kat rested her head against Lekko’s sweat-dampened shoulder, the shade of the hat pleasantly cool, and felt Lekko’s arms curl around her like a mother trying to reassure her child.

“I want things to change, Lekko,” she mumbled into Lekko’s shirt. “I don’t want to feel scared all the time…”

“They’ll change,” Lekko promised, but her voice wobbled a little. “Things will get better. You’ll see.”

They had embarked on a fruitless quest, and their food supplies were only dwindling. As much as Kat longed to believe Lekko, the thought of them starving and poverty-stricken on the streets of Admag or the wilderness was becoming more and more vivid with each day that passed. “Maybe they will. But what do we do if—”

“Hah, what’s this? A pair of flatskins?”

Kat’s head jerked up, nearly hitting the underside of the hat. They’d drawn the attention of a passing group of warriors, and a good few of them at that. Unlike the town guards, they were unarmoured from the waist up, but their long horns and enormous swords on their backs made them just as intimidating.

“ _Scrawny_ flatskins,” the warrior continued. “Unworthy of setting foot in our honoured city… yet here you are. Insult.”

Lekko’s muscles had tensed. Her embrace was suddenly a lot more rigid. Kat felt the nervous sweat tingle on her scalp and wished she had simply braved the smithy instead.

“You think yourself above us, flatskins? Tchah. Draw your swords and prove your worth. If you call those flimsy little sticks _swords_ , that is…”

“We don’t want trouble,” Lekko said quickly, coming to her senses and pulling Kat up from the ground. “We’re sorry to bother you.”

But the warriors were grinning at one another, spreading out into a circle so they were surrounded. Kat realised with a sinking heart that they were not about to let her and Lekko pass.

“You burn those marks yourselves, flatskins? Or did someone else do it for you?”

Lekko flushed and tugged at the hat so its brim covered the back of her neck. “Please let us pass.”

The warriors ignored her. Kat counted five of them, circling and mocking and waiting for a reaction. She glanced helplessly at the smithy, but they’d strayed too far for the others to hear what was going on. _This is my fault._ _We s_ _hould have just stayed put…_

“I heard flatskins are easily broken.” The Shek who’d been doing all the talking moved in a little closer. He was clearly their leader, young and cocky and with horns as long and sharp as sabre blades. He was strong, too, with broad shoulders and bulging muscles. “Heard their little bones snap like twigs.”

“Look, Kedan,” a woman said, “the puny flatskins fear us.”

“We’re not scared of you,” Lekko said, but she moved closer to Kat all the same.

“Really? Your Okranite friend with the glowing eyes, _she_ looks scared.”

“I’m not an Okranite,” Kat said despite herself. It belatedly occurred to her that the symbol branded into her cheek wasn’t just something to hide in the Holy Nation. “And I knew a load of bullies like you, in the Swamp. They’d be all threats and bluster until some blood spiders turned up, then they’d trip over themselves trying to run away.”

“Kat, don’t antagonise them,” Lekko muttered.

“And the slavers were the same. I’m not scared of a few bullies. You might be surrounding us, trying to intimidate us, but you aren’t gonna _fight_ us. Coz there are guards about, and—”

“Hah! You believe the guards place weak flatskins above mighty warriors?” But Kat had caught a flicker of something in Kedan’s eyes. He knew that she knew it was largely an act. “Our city is a proud one. Forget the new queen and her edicts. I will never bow to some craven who still fucks her retainer in private.”

The other warriors shifted uneasily. The woman who’d called Kat and Lekko puny flatskins was suddenly looking a little less smug. “Kedan, you speak of our leader. The Stone Golem. She proved her worth against King Shager.”

“If anyone was to replace him, it should have been Flying Bull.”

“The traitor? Your loyalty is to the Kingdom. Not to a ragtag group who wishes for the Kingdom to split into tribes once again…”

Kat grabbed Lekko’s arm, trying to pull her past the woman while she was berating Kedan, but immediately hit an invisible wall, unable to progress any further. She twisted slightly and realised the woman, far from being distracted, had grabbed the back of her shirt. “Not so fast, Okranite.”

“Let me go.” Kat had suddenly become aware of just how small she was in comparison with the Shek. They all had to be at least six foot tall, and were significantly broader than she was. “Let me _go_.”

In response to that, she found herself being hoisted off the ground. Her feet didn’t quite clear it, but the woman’s fist had yanked her shirt upwards, forcing her to stand on tiptoe. Her already-bruised toes screamed at the sudden pressure. “We don’t like Okranites around here, _Okranite_.”

“I’m not an Okranite!”

“Lie! You proudly wear their symbol.”

“It’s a slave-brand, that’s all it is, a slave-brand.” Kat nearly spat the words. The anger wasn’t quite enough to offset the pain and humiliation in her voice. “Let go of me!”

“I don’t think so, Okranite. Not after the dishonour of what you said to us earlier.” She dropped Kat on the ground. “Stand, Okranite. Stand and draw your sword.”

Kat’s sword was nothing; Kedan hadn’t been far off the mark in calling it a stick. She’d taken it, very reluctantly, from the pile of weapons the Ninjas had looted from World’s End. It hadn’t been much, just a medium-weight _jitte_ , and in comparison with the warriors’ weapons it looked absolutely pitiful. She pulled it free from her belt, wielding it in her unbandaged hand. It was clumsy to hold, and aside from a few test swings back in Flotsam, she hadn’t used it before. The woman grinned and drew her own sword, a heavy-looking plank with carefully sharpened edges. “Time to dance, little flatskin.”

The other warriors retreated to a safe distance to allow the honour-duel to commence. They must have been waiting a while for a good fight. Kat felt the _jitte_ tremble in her nervous grasp, but lifted her chin all the same, clenching her jaw until her teeth began to ache. “You find honour in duelling a flatskin?”

“Kat, be careful.” Lekko’s voice shook. She’d been grabbed too, and the hands on her shoulders were massive.

“I’m about to get in a fight with someone a _lot_ bigger than me, Lekko. I don’t think I _can_ be careful.”

Her words were, unfortunately, prophetic ones. The woman’s blow came out of nowhere, clipping the side of her head and nearly knocking her down. If she’d been a little taller and the blow had been a little faster, it might have slit her jugular vein. As it was, her head was now ringing with sickening dizziness, and she knew that blow to the head was another potential concussion on top of the one that Hotlongs had knocked her out with. Kat couldn’t claim to be an expert, but she knew what too many head injuries could do to a person. _I can’t dodge that, she’s too quick._ _Even though it must be so heavy…_

“Praying to your god yet, Okranite?” the woman jeered.

“Oh, fuck you,” Kat muttered, and dived forward. The woman tried to move back, but she was now well within the range of Kat’s _jitte_ , and no amount of skill would allow her to efficiently swing a plank with Kat at such close quarters. “Believe me, if Okran exists, I have a _lot_ of questions for him.”

Kat smacked her _jitte_ into the her opponent’s leg. She’d aimed for the knee, but had miscalculated, and had hit the woman in the thigh instead. The _jitte_ jarred her wrists as it bounced off the woman’s plated trousers.

“That the best you can do?” her opponent said, and a second later Kat was lying sprawled on the ground. It took her a couple of confused seconds – and the delayed pain response – to realise that she’d been hit. And now she was on the floor she couldn’t get up; it _hurt_ , hurt at least as much as the teeth marks on her arm or the burn on her hand or the brand on her face. She clenched her fingers into a fist, feeling the dust under her nails, and tried not to scream as a hard-plated boot kicked her in the side.

“Kat!”

She’d dropped her _jitte_ in the dust, she couldn’t reach it… As she desperately scrabbled for her weapon, the foot kicked her again, and this time it connected with her ribcage. She gasped and tried to curl into a defensive ball to avoid further damage, but before she could even begin to move her shaking legs, the boot was suddenly taken away, and its owner let out a cry of shock. “Fuck!”

“Get – _away_ – from her – you dishonourable – bitch!” There was a loud whack. Kat rolled over, as best she could without her brain wiping itself clean with pain, and saw that Lekko had picked up her _jitte_. She’d torn her shirt getting free of her captor, and as he attempted to make another grab for her, she span around and smacked him in the chin with the blunted sword. Realising their attempt to put the flatskins in their place had failed, the other Shek attempted damage control, hurrying to help their friend. A moment later, Lekko too was on the ground, clutching at her nose and mouth. The Shek got in one last kick, then slunk away down the street.

“That didn’t go well.” The pain in Kat’s side was slowly receding, though her head still throbbed. She pushed herself onto hands and knees, crawling over to where Lekko was lying. “Lekko?”

“Fuck,” Lekko groaned. “That was _not_ a good idea.”

Kat couldn’t tell if Lekko was referring to her decision to take Kat away from the group, or her frenzied attack on the Shek warriors. She numbly helped Lekko to sit up, trying to stay calm at the sight of the blood on Lekko’s face. “Shit. You OK?”

“Taken worse beatings. How’s it look?”

Now Kat’s eyes were properly focusing, she could see the blood was a lot less extensive than she’d first thought. Lekko’s nose was bleeding, and fairly profusely, but it didn’t look broken. When she grimaced, she still seemed to have her teeth. Kat was more concerned about her eye, which was already swelling shut, and patterned with a livid red hue. “They hit you with a sword?”

“The flat of the blade. Guess it’s better than having my skull split in two.” Lekko pinched the bridge of her nose and ducked her head. Blood splattered onto the street. “Bastards broke my hat.”

Kat picked it up. Lekko wasn’t wrong; the brim had split and the straw was already coming loose. She set it back on the ground. “I’ll get you a new one. It’s my fault.”

“Never mind the hat.” Lekko looked up for a moment. The eye that wasn’t tightly closed and half-hidden by her cheek stared fixedly at her. “Are _you_ broken? You took a pretty hefty whack from that plank.”

“I don’t think so.” She was going to be horrifically bruised for the next few days, but as she ran her hand down her side, Kat got the impression that was all. “Glad my ribs aren’t broken, at least. That’s what happened to Ava.”

“She get in a fight?”

“Sort of. Then fell off a cliff afterwards. She’d probably have died if she hadn’t fainted first.”

“Poor woman.”

“They were bandits. The people who attacked us. Not the Shek.” Kat scowled at the retreating forms in the distance. “Though _they_ were about as honourable as bandits.”

“Fucking bullies. I expected more.” Lekko stood up, her legs wobbling. “I’ve met a few people from the Shek Kingdom. Warriors. Decent people, too. Not like those arseholes.”

“You think Admag will be like this?” Kat said with a wince, as she pulled herself up from the ground.

“Fucking hope not.”

“Me too. Um, thank you, by the way.”

“Huh?”

“You protected me.”

“Oh, that. It’s fine.” Lekko smiled thinly. “Like I said, I’ve had worse.”

“The stone camp?”

Lekko’s expression darkened slightly. “Before that. Another fucking mine. They didn’t like my face there.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. Come on, let’s go back.”

But the others were coming to them; or at least, the twins were. They stopped short when they saw Kat’s grim expression and the blood on Lekko’s face.

“The fuck happened?” Spade said.

Kat wasn’t in the mood to explain it. “Your people decided to have a stomp on us, just for being flatskins.”

“They’re not _our people_ ,” Spade began hotly, but Jared shook his head at her.

“Let’s get off the street before more trouble finds us.”

They went with the twins back to the smithy, Lekko and Kat leaning against each other for support. Kat barely even noticed the iron stench this time, and wasn’t sure if the first instance had been a one-off memory or she was just too tired and hurt to care anymore. Still, she sat away from the outside wall, resting her head against a sun-warmed rock, and tried not to breathe in too deeply. Pia, who’d been sitting quietly in the shade, jumped to her feet at the sight of them.

“Are you two OK?”

“We’re fine,” Kat mumbled. “We think.”

“Do you need first aid, I can try and help, I mean I’m not very good, but—”

“That’s OK, Pia,” Jared said. “Me and Spade will handle it.”

Spade had already squatted down next to Lekko and was sifting through the first-aid kit. If Jared had been hoping to do the same with Kat, she didn’t notice. Her attention was already taken up with Rei, who was sitting with her knees against her chest and a glazed, faraway look in her eyes. She hadn’t reacted at all when Lekko had pulled Kat away in the first place, and didn’t even appear to have noticed their bloodied, dishevelled return. Kat reached out, tapping Jared on the shoulder.

“Hang on. Spade’s nearly finished with the first-aid kit.”

“It’s not that. It’s Rei. It’s… it’s like she’s not even seen us.”

“What?” He looked over at Rei, his jaw muscles twitching. Kat suspected his anger was entirely self-directed. “Fuck.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Kat said, though her side throbbed and ached and her head was still spinning. “We should check on her.”

Rei’s thousand-yard stare did not flicker as Kat and Jared crouched in front of her. She remained unresponsive even when Jared waved his hand in front of her eyes. Looking increasingly concerned, Jared snapped his fingers, but she didn’t blink at either the movement or the sound. “Rei!”

“She should be able to hear us, right?”

Scrap let out a single warning growl. Kat edged away from him as best she could, nearly toppling into Jared. Still Rei’s expression remained vacant, as though her soul had taken flight, and nothing Kat or Jared could do seemed to be working. Kat glanced over her shoulder at the others, hoping they might be able to help, but Spade was still checking over Lekko, tilting her face to inspect the damage. Pia, however, had sensed something was wrong, and was watching Rei with wide, frightened eyes.

“What do we do?” Kat said.

“Keep an eye on her until she comes round, that’s all we _can_ do. Has she had an absence like this before?”

“I… not that I’m aware of, no.”

Rei blinked. Kat thought she saw awareness coming back into her friend’s eyes. “Rei?” she said gently.

Rei didn’t immediately respond. Her gaze was flicking rapidly between Kat and Jared. Finally she mumbled, “You – you weren’t there, were you?”

“Weren’t where?” Kat’s legs were beginning to cramp. She knelt down, trying to ignore Scrap’s menacing teeth.

“There. Kat, you and Lekko went off somewhere…”

“Do you remember anything?” Jared said.

“Remember?” Her already-pale face drained of even more of its colour. “What happened?”

“It’s OK, try not to panic. You just spaced out for a bit.”

She nodded, but the colour did not return to her cheeks. “I don’t like this place, Jared.”

“I know. But we need to rest. First light tomorrow, we’ll get out of here. Pia, can you get the waterskin please?”

They sat with Rei as she drank. She was evidently thirsty from the way she was gulping the water down, and it was with reluctance that she yielded the waterskin back to Jared. “Can you leave me now, please? I want to be with Scrap…”

Kat and Jared retreated to give her some space. As they were on their way back to Spade and Lekko, Kat hissed, “ _Spaced out?_ That wasn’t spacing out. That was a _blackout_.”

“I know.” Jared suddenly looked very tired. “But what do we tell her? The truth will freak her out, and she’s already struggling enough as it is.”

“We shouldn’t be hiding things from her.”

“I know that, Kat. Do you think I want to—” He stopped, realising they were now standing right next to Spade and Lekko. “Let’s talk about this later.”

“Want to what?” Spade said distantly, dabbing at Lekko’s swollen eye with disinfectant.

“Huh?”

“Never mind. Is Kat OK?”

“Haven’t checked yet.” Jared shot Kat a searching look. “Where did you get hit?”

“She took a smack to the head,” Lekko said, her voice still a little nasal. Her nostrils were covered in dried blood, but the bleeding seemed to have stopped. “From a plank.”

“Fucking hell. Bastards.” But Jared seemed a little distracted as he checked Kat’s head, and Kat could tell he was still worried about Rei. “I think we’d best wait until Lekko’s free, then she can have a look. Can’t really do much more than patch up cuts and bruises.”

“That’s fine.”

“Are you in pain?”

Kat went to shake her head – her concern for Rei had wiped that away – but the movement reminded her body that it was injured. She clutched at her head as her skull threatened to split itself in two. “Just a bit.”

“Can’t catch a break, can you?”

“I guess not,” Kat said, but even as another wave of pain swept through her, she found herself looking at Rei. She was curled up with Scrap, her hands lost in his thick fur. Rei couldn’t seem to catch a break either, and it was physically breaking _her_. Kat wished there was something she could do to help.

Jared just smiled sadly and offered her the waterskin.


	14. Rooftop

In her fifteen years as a barracks cadet and nearly ten years as a noble lady’s guard, Marisa had never thought herself a politician.

She’d _known_ about politics, of course; becoming one of the empire’s elite soldiers had included an education programme just as rigorous as her other training. Even so, she’d always understood it to be the exclusive domain of the nobility, involving little more than formal diplomacy and stamping paperwork. She had never thought the simple act of sitting at a table with three nobles, and nervous hunger gnawing at her stomach, could be politics too .

Now, however, she was a part of the game, and perhaps she always had been. She thought back to the day she’d been selected as a noble guard, to all her carefully-phrased words to Lady Sanda, to the find-and-capture mission she’d been assigned along with the two mercenaries. Politics had been at play in all those scenarios, whether they had influenced the world’s affairs or not.

But this active, knowing weaving felt very different. She’d walked into the gutter nest, smeared in their stinking shit in order to stay hidden, and one wrong step could mean discovery. That assumed, of course, that Lord Ohta and Lady Emika were unaware of the weaving that was going on. Back when she’d been one of _their_ dinner-guests, Marisa had gotten the impression that politics was a staple of their evening routine.

“I see you kept the cripple, Lord Aramid,” Lady Emika observed as the servants brought their food.

Marisa flushed, but found herself looking at Lord Aramid to see how he would react. For a few seconds, she wasn’t sure he had even heard. But then he smiled a seemingly genuine smile and spread his hands. “Cripples have their uses.”

It wasn’t exactly an impassioned defence, but for the first time since Marisa could remember, someone had stood up for her. She tried not to smile herself, and failed. Lady Emika, on the other hand, was looking a little wrong-footed. “I didn’t mean to suggest otherwise. I just wondered what she was doing at your table this evening.”

“Does her presence offend you, Lady Emika?” Lord Aramid said, sipping water.

“No, no, of course not,” Lady Emika said quickly. “I was just surprised.”

“I understand. You hadn’t realised you’d be sharing your table with a… commoner.” Marisa knew she hadn’t imagined that pause, because Lady Emika’s own smile wavered for a second. “But of course, she isn’t just any commoner. If our dear emperor saw fit to bring her to his table, she can sit at mine. Can I offer you any sake?”

Lord Ohta pushed his cup forward, but Lady Emika shook her head. “Just water for me this evening, please.”

“As you wish.”

A waiting servant poured out water from the jug on the table, and the discussion moved on to other things; Lord Ohta and Lady Emika’s children, the upcoming attempt to take the Shield, Lord Shiro’s match with some girl who was half a peasant. Marisa, who’d been instructed not to speak unless she was spoken to, listened as attentively as she could, but it was difficult to stay alert in the stuffiness of the room. The thick velvet curtains always seemed to trap the heat long after the sun had gone down. She could hear flies buzzing around one of the electric lights.

“We haven’t interacted much, have we?” said Lady Emika.

“Indeed we haven’t. More’s the pity, really.”

“How’s noble life finding you, Lord Aramid?” Lord Ohta swirled the sake around in his cup. “It must be quite an adjustment, going from a simple Okranite existence to – well, to _this_.”

“ _Darling_ ,” Lady Emika said.

Lord Aramid chuckled. “It has indeed been an adjustment, but a gradual one nonetheless. As for the noble life? It’s provided me with some excellent company.” He raised his cup to Lady Emika, who smiled almost coquettishly. Lord Ohta, still inspecting his sake, appeared not to have noticed.

“Perhaps we should drink to your upward mobility,” Lady Emika said.

Marisa observed the toast quietly, taking in the three nobles. She knew Lord Aramid had set this as a test for her, just as well as she knew he’d ask what she’d learned when all this was over. _But what is he expecting me to find out?_

While their attention was elsewhere, she looked a little more closely at the couple on the opposite side of the table. Lord Ohta was sipping from his cup, his eyes on Lord Aramid. Lady Emika, on the other hand, had evidently been distracted by the food the servants were bringing. Then, as if realising she was being watched, she turned her head sharply towards Marisa. Marisa, who didn’t have time to pretend she hadn’t just been staring, responded to her piercing gaze with a respectful dip of the head.

“I’m curious, Lord Aramid. I heard Lady Sanda gifted her to you.”

“Of a sort.”

“Oh, I see. Well, I can’t confess to know the woman’s mind. But if she didn’t gift her, what made you decide to take this young lady on as a member of your household staff? I did hear Okranites were more charitable…”

Lord Aramid laughed. “If I was a charitable man, I wouldn’t be a wealthy one. Besides, she may be crippled, but I’m hopeful a decent prosthesis might go some way to restoring her.”

“I thought Okranites were against that sort of thing.”

“It’s a weakness of theirs, I must confess. As for me? I have no issues embracing technology where it can improve one’s quality of life, and that includes Skeleton limbs. Just don’t expect me to shake hands with an actual Skeleton.”

“I have to say, I’ve heard a lot of good things about Lady Sanda’s guards.” Lady Emika’s eyes flickered back to Marisa. “You _do_ still intend to use her as a guard, then.” Her teeth were like little rows of carved pearl. “Please tell me she is to be your guard and not your…”

 _Spy,_ Marisa thought frantically.

Lord Aramid hadn’t reacted at all. “My what?” he murmured with mild interest, and Lady Emika blushed. “Do enlighten me, Lady Emika.”

“You strike me as a cautious man, Lord Aramid.” She leaned forward, speaking quietly, but Marisa was not quite out of earshot. “Please take this as it is intended, a friend’s advice – or at least, advice from someone who wants to help. Earlier, when we discussed Lord Shiro’s match… those aren’t the sorts of dealings we should be having with commoners. Believe me, it just tends to bring ruin.” She settled back in her seat, while Marisa tried her best to control her blush and feign deafness. “Speaking of other nobles, how did you find the summit?”

“It was certainly eye-opening. And an honour to be invited.”

“Hm,” Lord Ohta grunted into his sake.

“ _Darling_ ,” Lady Emika said again, a little more reproachfully than before. “Do excuse my husband, Lord Aramid. He can get a little cranky when he hasn’t smoked.”

“I’d offer to help with that, but I’ve no hashish in the house, I’m afraid.”

“Personally, I can’t stand the smell of the smoke. I felt quite ill in the palace, to be honest with you. Speaking of the palace… you were the talk of it, you know. It’s rare indeed that a common-born person ascends to the ranks of the nobility. In fact, I can’t ever remember it happening in my lifetime. You must have greatly impressed the emperor.”

“It would seem so.”

“Ohta, isn’t it nice to have a little more noble company in the capital?” When her husband did not reply to her prompt, Lady Emika rolled her eyes. “And _exotic_ noble company at that. You know, I think people would be very interested to hear of your homeland. We are well-travelled, but only within the empire.”

“I’m very flattered you think me interesting, Lady Emika, but I can’t honestly say the holy lands are that exciting.”

“But it’s different,” she persisted. “And in any case, you’re a breath of fresh air in the Inner Circle. You really should come over for dinner with us, so we can extend the same hospitality to you. Shouldn’t we, Ohta?”

“Hm? Oh. Yes, quite.”

Lord Aramid inclined his head. “Not an invitation I can refuse, hm? I must say, until I bought a house in the capital, I had only heard of the graciousness the ruling classes are renowned for. I am glad to experience it for myself.”

Marisa was sure there was a veiled insult in there somewhere, but if Lady Emika had picked up on it, she gave no outward sign of it. “Wonderful! We’ll have to discuss a day when you can visit us. And you’ll be able to meet Nobu and Yuto. You’re not a father yourself, I take it?”

“I must confess, I’ve been too busy with other pursuits this past decade or two to have much time for siring heirs.”

“And your hard work is to be commended. There’s still time to have children, you’re still relatively young…” Lord Aramid laughed. “My sister in Clownsteady isn’t married yet, you know. A full-blooded noble, but she’s struggled to find a suitable match. If you’re interested, I can introduce you.”

“That’s very kind.” His tone was a little flatter than before, but he smiled politely nonetheless. “I appreciate the offer, Lady Emika. If I decide to take you up on it, I’ll be sure to let you know.” That signalled the end of the topic, and the conversation was moved on again.

Their main courses were finished, and the servants moved in to replace their empty plates with dessert bowls. Dessert was some kind of strange, thick paste, pale red in colour. Marisa was still not entirely used to stuffing her face with sweet things immediately after a filling meal, but the nervous hunger had not gone away, and she found herself wolfing down the sweet paste. It clung unpleasantly to the roof of her mouth, and even when she tried to wash it down with water, there was no dislodging it. Lady Emika shot her a slightly disapproving look, and dipped her spoon daintily into her bowl.

“Your servants are well trained, Lord Aramid. They seem to know when to stay hidden.”

“One of the perks of a house like this,” Lord Aramid said. “It’s easy enough for them to do so.”

Lady Emika set her spoon down. “I meant to ask you about that. Wouldn’t it be better to clear some of these heavy curtains, or replace them with see-through drapes?”

“This is a fairly typical Okranite style,” Lord Aramid said. “You don’t like it?”

“I’m thinking more in terms of your safety. An assassin could hide behind them.”

“If that assassin was good enough to get past my guards in the first place, I’m not so sure the lack of curtains would stop them taking me out.”

“Guards? Where are your guards, anyway?”

“About,” he said with a smile.

“It just strikes me as a little blasé, that’s all. I know things are different in the Holy Nation, but this is a land filled with opportunists. Do you have poison-testers?”

“Lady Emika, I appreciate the concern for my welfare, but I am slightly concerned myself for the level of interest you’re taking.” He winked, but Marisa was sure he wasn’t joking. Lady Emika just sighed and took another sip of water.

“I know it’s not a precaution you’re used to taking. Just… give it some thought, at least. Ohta and I can help you if you need it.”

“And as I say, I do appreciate it. I’m sorry if I offended you with my attempt at light-heartedness.”

“No offence taken,” she said.

By the time the table was cleared, Marisa was struggling to think past the fog in her head. She was beginning to feel as drowsy as if she’d just downed one of her tinctures neat, and though she was still very aware of the stump of her leg, the pain seemed to be ebbing and flowing, like a tide that was slowly receding. The three nobles were not immune, either; the heat was heavy, and with the door shut, it had few places to escape to. Marisa rubbed at the damp spot on the back of her tunic and prayed it would be over soon so she could go to bed.

Unfortunately for her, however, noble goodbyes were long and drawn-out rituals. It felt more like watching very close friends separate for a long journey, than simple pleasantries between acquaintances that lived in the same city. An hour after Lady Emika’s remark that she didn’t want to intrude on Lord Aramid’s generosity too much longer, she and her husband were finally out the door. Lord Aramid closed it behind them with a weary sigh.

“My lord…”

He held up a hand. “Wait a moment.”

There was a little pause, and then Marisa heard the sounds of Lord Ohta and Lady Emika’s footsteps as they walked off, presumably to join their guards who’d been waiting for them outside. Lord Aramid turned back to Marisa and laid his hand on her shoulder. “Let’s move away from this door.”

“Oh. Yes.” Her face grew hot at his touch. “Of course, my lord.”

“It’s horrible in here, isn’t it? Hot enough to kill a cactus. The desert will be cooling off now. Let’s go on the roof.”

Marisa hadn’t been on the roof before, and quailed a little at the thought. “I’m not sure if I can use my crutches on the stairs, my lord.”

“I’ll walk behind you. If you fall, I’ll catch you.”

Lady Sanda would never have lowered herself to walking behind one of her retinue, not in her own house. Marisa hesitated, decided it probably wasn’t a trap, and struggled over to the stairs. Her left crutch slid a little as she placed it on the first step.

“You can do it,” he said. “Try and place the crutch as vertically as you can. Look for the grooves in the stairs and use them.”

“Oh… OK.” She took his advice and found it easier; her confidence suddenly boosted, she moved a little faster. She almost reached the top step without slipping at all, but as she got there her crutch shot out from under her, and she fell backwards with a shriek she couldn’t stifle. There was a slight _oof_ from Lord Aramid as she thudded into him, but her downward trajectory came to a stop. “Sorry. I’m so sorry, my lord.”

“Don’t apologise, Marisa.” He clearly hadn’t realised her weight when he’d offered, and Marisa could tell she’d winded him. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she whispered in shame.

“Be careful on the roof. Some of the planks have worn smooth from all the sandstorms… on second thoughts, maybe being up here wasn’t such a good idea.”

“I’ll be OK,” she said quickly, readjusting the crutches.

To her relief, there was a table on the roof; a small one, with two wooden stools and a canvas awning over them. Lord Aramid brushed the worst of the desert-dust off the nearest stool and guided Marisa to it. “Sit there.”

She sat; it wasn’t like she could easily stand, anyway. Lord Aramid took the seat opposite her, quietly observing the view across the city. It was a nice view; the sky was a deep, clear blue, the city lights all warm oranges and glowing whites. The sun must have gone down whilst they’d been dining. Marisa glanced at Lord Aramid while his attention was diverted and realised that with the size of the table, she was sitting a lot closer to him than she was used to.

“Is it safe to talk up here, my lord?” she said.

“Safe? If we don’t shout, it’s safe. Whether it’s wise is a different matter.”

“So you aren’t going to ask me about dinner?”

He got up, strolling with his hands behind his back to the lip of the roof, and peered down over the side. As if satisfied Lord Ohta and Lady Emika were really gone and not just lurking in the shadows, he returned to the table. “I suppose it’s best not to leave room for things to get forgotten. So tell me, Marisa. What did you think about our interactions?”

“Subtle,” she said.

“Really? How so?”

She forced herself to stay calm; spies did not get ruffled when they were questioned. “I think you’re dealing with someone who is playing nice and trying to push her goals. Lady Emika—”

“Shush,” he said, holding up a hand, “names carry farther than words.”

“Sorry. I mean, I’ve spoken to her before. I was in the noble-house, when my old mistress arrived in Heft with her retinue. And she wasn’t all nice like that when I was in _her_ house. It felt like a power play, to be honest. Like she was lording it over my mistress – excuse the term, sorry – and making it sound like she was reminding her she was a lot richer and more influential than who she was talking to. And that’s not all, either. I’d forgotten until now, but being back in the room with her reminded me. She mentioned you last time. She and her husband were criticising you. I didn’t get the impression they wanted you in the Inner Circle at all. I’m sorry if I’ve spoken out of turn, my lord.”

“Trust me, Marisa. You haven’t.” He frowned. “That’s very useful information to know. So, either they’ve changed their minds as quickly as a dust-storm arrives, or more likely, _she_ is weaving her cloth with deceit.”

“I don’t know, my lord.”

“Perhaps you do. What did you gauge from tonight?”

Marisa thought for a moment. “She’s trying to feign friendship, I think. Like with the wedding thing… and acting concerned for your safety…” She frowned suddenly. “She asked if you had poison-testers.”

“She did indeed. It did not escape my notice.”

“Do you think… do you think she might have been the person behind the last attempt on your life?”

Lord Aramid stared at her levelly for a few moments. Marisa shrank back, sure she had made a mistake. Finally he said, “Be very careful with your accusations. If someone hears, we could lose more than just a pretence.”

“But is it what _you_ think, my lord?”

“I can’t say for certain. We have no evidence. The cooks swore innocence, as did the servants. Nothing links the two things together.”

“Maybe Cassie would be able to help. If she recognised the smell of the poison.”

“With respect, I think we can do better than a mute slave. I already spoke to my contacts, and the poison is one that is well circulated among the general populace. Not strictly as a poison. It’s used in basic first-aid kits as a sort of folk remedy. Our wannabe assassin might not be so noble after all.”

“Oh, right,” she said, a little discomfited. “Well, I wouldn’t trust her, anyway, not if I were you, my lord. Lady – I mean, _s_ _he_ seemed very keen on reminding you that you weren’t noble-born.”

“Yes, I picked up on that too. Do you think she might be more threatened by that, or the fact I’m an Okranite?”

“You’re asking me, my lord?”

“I am, but it’s not a test. I’m genuinely interested to see what you think.”

“We _are_ about to go to war,” she said.

“We are indeed.”

“And maybe she isn’t so happy about an Okranite being so favoured by the emperor.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me. Nobody has said as much to my face, but even before this whole business happened with the Shield, I got the feeling my faith was putting me at odds with other nobles. People are probably suspicious, and I can’t exactly blame them. Which is why I’ve tried to keep my image as removed from my former citizenship as I can, and not display any public sign of faith.”

“That must be hard, right?”

He shot her a quick look, and she blushed. “Is that the way you addressed your old mistress?”

“Oh, no, no, I’m sorry.”

“You’re not in trouble,” he said, but he sounded weary. He went back to staring at the darkening cityscape. “My fellow nobles lurk like blood spiders in the swamps, my household staff treat me as a lord, and _you_ seem to be as confused about your own position as I am.”

“I didn’t mean to speak above my station,” she said in a small voice.

“As I’ve said before, Marisa, I want the people who work for me to speak freely. And that’s even more important for someone like you.” His smile, so easy earlier, was looking a little forced now. “And yes, you are quite correct in your observation. Coming to the emperor’s attention tends to bode ill, no matter the surface outcome. Be careful around him, Marisa. He is not a man to be trusted.”

“Do… do you still want me in the palace, my lord?”

“It’s useful to have allies in places like that.”

Marisa wasn’t quite sure how to respond. She’d always been a guard, never an ally.

“You know, I really do think your mistress wasted your potential. You’re an intelligent woman, not just some trained muscle with a good sword. You know what you need to do to stay alive. The noble doctor… she overpowered you and tied you up, right? You had plenty of time between her escaping and your mistress waking up. You could have rolled over to the table, used an abandoned _nodachi_ to cut yourself free. Or at the very least, you could have spat out what I can only assume was an inexpertly made gag and screamed the place down. Yet you didn’t.”

Marisa’s blood ran cold. “That’s not… that’s not how it was.”

“So why do you have a shifty bugman face?”

“If I hadn’t stayed there and humiliated myself, my lady would never have believed I didn’t help her escape,” she blurted. “She wasn’t – she isn’t really someone who is rational. And I thought maybe my safest option was to make it look like I’d tried to stop her, and to just let her go. And even that was terrifying, lying there waiting for someone to discover me. I didn’t know if it would work, but even if she hadn’t bound me, I wouldn’t have been able to go anywhere.”

“Well, you’ve proven my point that you’re smart,” he said. “You seem to have a decent read on our dinner-guest as well. At least the more talkative one… What did you make of the other?”

“I think she was making excuses on his behalf. He didn’t want to be there. I saw the way he stared at his cup, and the way he looked at you when you all toasted. I think she was getting annoyed that he was sabotaging her best efforts to play nice.”

“Quite,” he said. “Funny, really. He’s the lord of the town, she’s a minor noble from the south, and yet she seems to be the one in control. Narko certainly lays traps for the unfaithful.”

“My lord?”

He stopped. “Forgive me. The Okranite ways… are not your ways. We are far less egalitarian, at least as far as the gender roles are concerned. When it comes to wealth, the disparity is not so great.”

“The Okranites think women are evil, right?” She remembered all too well the encounter she’d had with the paladins in the Skimsands. They’d addressed their questions to Ceras and had cut her off when she’d first tried to speak. It hadn’t been a comfortable experience to yield authority to the mercenary. “Is that what _you_ think?”

“There’s a difference between being evil and being more vulnerable to Narko. I wouldn’t even have called it a flaw, not really. Just because women have to work harder in that respect, it doesn’t mean Okran values them any less. In fact, I have a sneaking suspicion he values them more because of it.”

Marisa frowned. “But you hold to the belief that women should be quiet and let the men do the talking.”

“Not quite. If I thought that, wouldn’t I have chosen a man over you? Narko bestows certain talents on women that are very useful, such as subtlety. She is the best friend of every politician, every assassin, every spy. You just need to know when she’s helping you and when she’s tempting you.”

“So you think my nature is somehow dark, but it’s to your advantage.” She raised her eyebrows. “I have two questions, my lord.”

“Go for it.”

“Would you be considered a heretic among your people?”

“Almost certainly.”

“I see.”

“And what is your second question, Marisa?”

“Has a woman ever slapped you for saying what you just said to me?”

For a moment she thought her boldness might get _her_ struck, and she flinched reflexively. But to her great relief, Lord Aramid just laughed. “Not as yet. I can see I’ll have to be careful, or I’ll no longer be able to say that.”

“I’d never hit a noble, my lord.”

“Marisa, there may well come a time when you need to, and I’m sure it’ll be entirely justifiable. Not that I want to be slapped, mind. I’m thinking more about if things go wrong for us both.”

“Do you think it likely?”

She wanted him to say no, but he just shrugged sadly. “No matter your level of mastery at the game, the board can change in ways you could never have anticipated.”

It couldn’t have been more than ten days since their first meeting, but Marisa got the sudden sense that something had chipped away at his smoothness in the meantime. Maybe his suave confidence and little subtleties were more of a front than he’d initially let on. “Okran’s Shield… that has to be a pretty big board change, right?”

“Quite so. It’s a matter of days before we attack. No matter the emperor’s opinion of me now, it might well change like a wind once the Okranites become a true enemy to be destroyed, rather than a faceless threat lurking at the edge of the Skimsands.”

“You spoke in support of Lady Sanda,” she said. “Back in the council meeting.”

“Perhaps it was a mistake,” he replied.

And they sat on the rooftop in silence.

* * *

Kat was beginning to hate the desert.

She’d never been fond of it to start with. The dry northern expanses of sand dunes and skimmers held numerous painful memories of shackles and slave camps and dead and missing friends, but even before that, it had always struck her as rather a bizarre and alien environment. Kat had spent her formative years knee-deep in water, surrounded by stilt houses and humid mists and the smell of lush but rotting vegetation. The dryness of the desert had felt unwelcoming under her bare feet when she’d first stepped into its dust a lifetime ago, and she had never grown to like the feeling of the grit on her skin.

But the Stenn Desert was nothing like the Great Desert of the United Cities. This was the homeland of the Shek, and the ground was tough and hard to match. Between Squin and Admag, it appeared to be baked rock-solid; even the hilly terrain around the Hub had not been as difficult as this. It wasn’t easy to navigate, either. Kat’s already-sore feet were burning and bleeding after just twenty minutes, and their progress was seriously hindered by the number of ups and downs.

“Feels weird, doesn’t it, Spade?” Jared said. “Being back here.”

“Pretty weird, yeah.” Spade rubbed at her sweating brow. “You know, I don’t think I’ve missed this place at all.”

“Not even a little?”

“I doubt it’s missed _us_.”

“You doing OK, Lekko?” Kat said, resisting the urge to rub at the brand. It itched. But the itching was better than pain, and she knew that, slowly but surely, it was healing. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m fine.”

Lekko didn’t look fine. A deep purple bruise, bigger than the palm of Kat’s hand, had spread across her swollen eye and the side of her face. Other bruises, smaller but no less livid, had patterned themselves across her bare arms, and various scuffs and scrapes marked her skin. There was still some dried blood next to her mouth, and her voice was slightly muffled. “How’s your head?”

“It’s OK,” Kat lied; her head currently felt like it was stuffed full of clouds. “I’m sorry I got you beat up.”

“Wasn’t your fault. It was mine. Least I still have all my teeth. Bruises and shit… that’ll heal up eventually.”

They walked in silence for a couple of miles. As they passed one of the strange spiked plants – or whatever it was – Kat noticed Rei wandering straight towards its spines. Remembering what had happened to Pia, she grabbed Rei’s arm and pulled her slightly to the side so the spines weren’t directly in her path. “Careful.”

Rei did not react at all to Kat’s touch. She kept walking forward, like a sleepwalker, drifting back towards the plant. Swearing to herself, Kat went to grab her again, but she was a few seconds too late to stop her walking into it. Lekko, seeing that Rei had drifted into the needles but had not made any sound of pain, hurried forward to check on her. “Rei?”

Grabbing a shoulder each, Kat and Jared pushed Rei onto a patch of ground that was at least partly in the shade of a decently-sized rock. Kat winced at the sight of the large spines that had snapped off in Rei’s legs.

“Rei, can you hear me?” When she got no response, Lekko turned to Kat. “It’s like she’s awake but not conscious.”

There was no hiding it from Lekko, nor Spade, nor Pia for that matter. Kat bit her lip and told the truth. “This happened to her in Squin. She had this… this absence that lasted a few minutes.”

“You should have said something! What if she’d wandered over a cliff?”

“We’re sorry,” Jared said. “ _I’m_ sorry. I thought you probably had enough on your plate at the time.”

“Fucking brilliant,” Spade muttered.

Rei blinked. She was starting to come to. “What happened?”

“Hold still,” Lekko said grimly. “We need to get these things out of your legs.”

“What things?” Rei stared down at her legs like they were someone else’s. “I don’t understand…”

“You blacked out.” Lekko passed Rei a water-skin. “Get some more fluids in you while I take a look at this.”

“I blacked out? I fell?”

“Not exactly…” Lekko said, glancing at Kat and Jared for help.

“You went completely blank,” Kat explained. “I think your body just sort of kept going without you.”

“I don’t understand,” Rei said again. She rubbed at her face. “It was like one minute I was just walking like normal, and the next I’m sitting here with… whatever those things are in my legs.”

“Yeah, _those things_ are going to hurt like a bitch when I take them out,” Lekko observed. “You might want to hold on to something.”

Kat reached out to Rei, who grabbed her good hand. Lekko fumbled in the first-ait kit for a minute, grabbing a pair of tweezers. “Stay _really_ still or these might break off when they’re still in your skin.”

Rei paled, but did as she was told. From the way she was gripping Kat’s hand, Lekko certainly hadn’t minced her words; the procedure was painful. When the last bloodied spine had been removed, Lekko wiped her legs down with disinfectant and tied a few scraps of cloth around the wounds. “Are you going to be able to walk?”

“I… I guess so,” Rei mumbled.

“I’ll walk next to you,” Kat promised. “In case it happens again.”

Rei grabbed Kat’s good hand with her other hand. Kat winced; Rei’s hands were warm and damp and her own hand now uncomfortably sandwiched. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I don’t _understand._ ”

The agony on her face and in her voice was gut-wrenching. Of course she didn’t understand. Absences aside, a lot of things had happened to her that she couldn’t make sense of. Kat wasn’t sure she could make sense of it either. “It’ll be OK. When we get to Admag, we’ll rest a bit before we go looking for Taura. Maybe your body’s just doing weird things because you haven’t slept properly.”

“Yeah,” Rei said, desperately grasping, “yeah, that’s probably what it is, right?”

Lekko just sighed, and Kat was sure she saw something pass across her bruised and swollen face. She knew as well as Kat and Rei that there was something more going on. “If you start feeling weird at any point, Rei, just let us know.”

“I will.”

“Not that far to go,” said Spade. “We’ll be there long before it gets dark.”

Kat put her bandaged hand on top of Rei’s, and wondered if she’d ever stop feeling helpless.


	15. Searching

The walls of Admag, crowning the top of a large hill, signalled the end of Kat’s journey. As she stared up at the high city, Rei’s skinny form draped over her shoulders, it occurred to her just how numb this ending felt. Four days of stress and struggle and suffering, yet now it was almost over, she felt no relief. _No more walking, but this isn’t over. It might never be over._

“Well then,” Jared said, “let’s get this done.”

It was a struggle, walking up that last steep incline to the city gates. Rei wasn’t heavy, but she was becoming more and more of a deadweight with every step, and Kat nearly tripped and fell several times. Jared grabbed Rei’s other arm, frowning when she didn’t flinch, and pulled it over his own shoulder.

“Let her go, Kat. I’ve got this.”

Kat didn’t object; Rei was more evenly-matched with Jared’s height, and Jared’s shoulders were far above her own. They straggled up to the gates, with Spade at the front, and stopped short of the unfriendly-looking guards.

“Bag check, outsiders.”

They pulled off their backpacks. Kat’s limited experience of bag checks was not a positive one; all the guards who’d ever stopped her had a habit of leaving things disorganised and broken in their searches. The guards poked through the bags, uniform expressions of distaste on their faces. They didn’t exactly look happy with some of their gear, and Kat winced when Pia’s prayer beads were pulled out of her bag.

“H’mph. You’d better watch your back, Okranite.”

“Yes, sir,” Pia squeaked.

The guard who’d just spoken waved them past. “Go. Just don’t cause any trouble, or you’ll regret it.”

It was only when they were through their gates that Kat realised their pockets hadn’t been checked. She closed her fist around the medallion, thankful she’d left it on her person, and wondered if it would really have caused as much trouble as Spade had implied. Pia hugged the straps of her bag, her lips trembling slightly. The encounter with the gate guards had clearly shaken her up just as much as the paladins had.

“Well, this is different,” Lekko said.

The Shek capital was nothing like Shark, or Bark, or even Squin. Towers stretched to the skies, banners of reds and yellows fluttered gently in the dusty breeze, and the ground vibrated with the sound of distant drums. Yet in spite of all that, there was a shadow; a sense that it had once been far greater and prouder than this. Kat glanced at the twins to see if they felt it too, but they were more focused on keeping Rei on her feet. Scrap watched carefully from just behind them.

“We should find a place to sit,” Jared suggested. “Away from other people.”

“Good idea,” Kat said, thinking back to the encounter she and Lekko had had in Squin. Her head throbbed slightly in response.

They found some shade down by one of the high walls, and slumped in the light, powdery dust. Pia picked up some of the dust and let it fall through her fingers. Lekko leaned against the wall and flexed her battered feet with a sigh. Rei sat and stared at her hands and didn’t say a word.

“Talk to us, Rei,” Kat said.

“I’m fine. We got here, right? I’m sorry if I’ve – if I’ve caused any stress…”

“You haven’t,” Kat lied, and sat down next to her. To her relief, Rei didn’t tell her to go away this time. “Look, _I’m_ sorry. Maybe my attempts to help you have been kind of misguided at points… but I genuinely only acted with good intentions. I really do want to help, Rei. If there’s anything I can do at any point…”

“Help me find Taura. Please.”

“That was always our plan, wasn’t it?”

“I know, but – Kat, we’ve come so far. And this is the only thing that might help me. Maybe. I thought killing Haga would help me, and look how that turned out. But if this doesn’t work, I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll look for her together. And that’s a promise,” Kat said, putting her hand on Rei’s skinny arm. Suddenly suspicious, she added, “You _have_ been eating, right?”

“A bit. Just don’t feel like I can keep it down.”

“When did you last have a full meal?”

“Flotsam. I think.”

Kat swore. She wasn’t swearing at Rei, but Rei still flinched. “Sorry, Rei.” She turned to the others. “How much food do we have left?”

“Almost none.” Lekko appeared to have read Kat’s mind, because she delved into her bag and pulled out a string of cats. “There. Damn it. Get her a hot meal, something that’s not tainted by chemicals. And Kat?”

“Yeah?”

“Please take Scrap with you.”

There was no doubting it; what had started off as a cute puppy was now a seething mound of teeth and fur, that saw Kat and hated her. Kat took the lead with extreme reluctance, passing it to Rei as soon as she was on her feet.

“Come on. We’ll find a bar.”

There were plenty of bars in Admag to choose from. Kat settled on the one she thought looked the most welcoming, and helped Rei up the steps to the dusty, gloomy interior. The windows were dirty, the only real light coming from bulbs set under broken ceiling fans, and the place gave off the impression of somewhere that was not frequented by the Kingdom’s finest. Kat and Rei sat in a darkened corner to avoid the attention of the seedy-looking people who were already in there, and Rei fumbled with Scrap’s leash until it was knotted around the table’s central leg.

“What d’you want, Rei?”

“Oh… save the money, just get a bowl of rice or something,” she replied faintly.

“Bollocks to that. You need proper food, stuff that’ll fill you up and give you energy. _Gohan_? I’ll get you some of that.”

But when she placed her order with the barkeep, he looked at her like she’d crawled out of the earth.

“We don’t sell that here,” he said.

“Cooked greenfruit?”

“You want food, look at the damn menu.” And he shoved a finger at the crudely carved drawings on the bar-top. “ _Then_ tell me what you want. Damn flatskins…”

Refusing to rise to it, Kat peered at the drawings in an attempt to identify them. With the bar so dusty and the light levels as low as they were, it wasn’t an easy task. “Meatwrap then, please.”

“Finally, she chooses something that I _can_ give her,” the barkeep muttered. To his assistant he yelled, “You fucking heard the flatskin! A meatwrap, and make it snappy! Try not to paw at the bread with your damn filthy hands!”

The hornless man scowled, but went to the back and started throwing meat and bread together. Kat fidgeted as she waited; the barkeep’s shout had attracted everyone’s attention, and all the patrons’ eyes were now on her. To her relief, Rei appeared to have escaped notice for now. “Thanks.”

“Seven hundred cats.”

How much had Lekko said they had? Two thousand, Kat vaguely remembered. She tried not to think of how much money she’d just spent on Rei’s behalf. “Here.”

The barkeep snatched the cats and threw them into the little drawer behind the bar. The cook returned with the meatwrap, throwing it onto the bar with such force half the meat fell out. Kat forced a smile and took it over to Rei, brushing off the dust.

“Sorry,” she whispered, “it’s not great.”

“It’s OK,” Rei whispered back. “Thanks.”

“You had enough to drink?”

“I think so. Not sure.” She sighed. “Everything’s just sort of blurred, to be honest. I can’t remember when I last did _anything_.”

“That’ll change. Once we’ve figured out what to do and gotten back in a routine. It’ll change.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

She picked at the meatwrap, tearing chunks of bread off with her fingers and bringing them slowly to her lips. She had to be hungry, but she wasn’t attacking the food like Kat would have done. Kat reached across the little table and put her hand on top of Rei’s.

“It’s all like sludge, Kat. I can’t even think. My mind’s so slow right now. I feel almost… drunk. But without any of the good bits.”

“We’ll get some beds at some point. Then you can sleep properly.”

“Kat, what if we never get the money for that? We’ll be destitute, and – and in a city that doesn’t even like us—”

“I don’t think we will,” Kat said, desperately hoping Rei’s words wouldn’t turn out to be prophetic. “Lekko and Jared will figure something out before that happens.”

“I – I’m not so sure. Kat, they don’t have any more of an idea of what to do than us. Just coz they’re a little bit older… well, Lekko, anyway… it doesn’t mean they somehow know. I tried to be in charge and even when I was the leader, _I_ didn’t know. I didn’t know anything. And I’ve still got no fucking clue about anything.” She pushed a chunk of bread into her mouth and slowly chewed it. “I’ve done nothing right. And I tried.”

“I know you did. Rei, it doesn’t mean you’re a failure.”

“What else do you call someone who makes nothing but mistakes?”

“You escaped the stone camp with me. That wasn’t a mistake.”

“It would have been if Ava and Ruka hadn’t come along.”

“Well… I guess that would have been _my_ mistake, really. I dragged you out of there. Rei, just hang in there a little longer. Who knows, maybe Taura will let us stay with her, or something. And then we can rest, and we’ll have food and baths and stuff… that’d be nice, right?”

“I guess,” Rei said flatly.

“Maybe you’ll feel better when you’ve had food and sleep.”

“But it won’t fix me, will it? I can’t see this changing, Rei. I want to _believe_ it’ll change but… the shadows are only getting louder, and Haga’s only getting more _there_ , and I’m just tired but my mind can’t stop. Apart from these blackouts. Kat, I’m dying.”

A jolt of sudden icy fear clawed at Kat’s abdomen. “Rei, you’re not dying. Don’t say that.”

“I wouldn’t be sorry if I was,” she said.

Taking advantage of the agonised silence, she pushed the meatwrap over to Kat.

“I can’t eat it. I’m sorry. You look like you’re hungry. Please eat it.”

“Rei—”

“It’s a waste, giving this to me. Just tell Lekko I ate it.”

“I’ll make a deal. I’ll eat half if you eat half. How does that sound?”

She shrugged listlessly. “Fine, whatever.”

They split the meatwrap between them, with Kat splitting it down the middle as best she could with her dusty fingers. She tried to leave the slightly bigger portion for Rei, but Rei was looking at it like it was an impossible mountain she had to climb.

“Come on, I’ll eat with you.”

It took Kat nearly half an hour of gentle coaxing – and watching to make sure Rei didn’t try and sneak most of the food to Scrap – but she was glad to call it a success once they were done. She took Rei by the hand, and Rei untied Scrap from the table leg.

“I’m sure the others will be wondering what’s taken us so long. Come on.”

“You gonna let the flatskin boss you about, no-horns?” one of the patrons hollered across the bar. Rei flinched.

“Ignore him,” Kat said.

“That’s another thing,” Rei mumbled. “I haven’t been welcome anywhere, not really.”

“You’re not the only one.”

“Least they seemed to like you in Flotsam. Moll, she seemed to like you.”

“Maybe,” Kat said.

“I got the feeling she did. I was just trouble, I guess.”

“You’re not trouble.”

“Oy, no-horns!”

There came raucous laughter from the man’s table. Kat didn’t hang around to see what else the patrons might do once they’d grown bored of mocking them. She gave Rei a little tug, pulling her out of the bar, and they stumbled down the steps to the street. Scrap sniffed at the corner of the foundation and growled.

“It’s OK, Scrap,” Rei murmured.

To Kat’s relief, the others met their lateness with sympathy. Jared moved aside so they could both sit in a spot that was neither too sunny nor too stony, and they rested. Pia, who was evidently in need of comfort, had taken her beads out of her bag and slipped behind a little traveller’s shop to pray.

“We’ll start looking tomorrow, right?” Spade said. “For this Taura person?”

“I guess so,” Kat replied despondently.

“Hey, cheer up. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

Kat didn’t answer. It didn’t seem like a good reason to be cheerful, especially not with everything Rei had said in the bar now praying on her mind.

“So, Admag,” Jared said, as if he’d sensed the mood had changed. “It’s just me and Spade that’ve been here before, right?” Taking their silence for agreement he added, “This city has stood for… what… five hundred years in its current form. But before the Shek came together and built it up, it was the camp of Kral’s tribe.”

“Remind me who Kral is again,” said Lekko.

“He was a great warrior. Some say _the_ greatest – it’s mostly Shek that think that. He’s almost a legend now, but he did exist. He was the one who unified all the tribes, taught them the warrior codes and ultimately created the Shek Kingdom as it is today. But it was more powerful back then, there were more cities. Anyway, this place here, this is where Kral was born.”

“Where we _think_ he was born,” Spade pointed out.

“I mean, yeah, it’s not like we know. And to be honest, it’s not a thing that’s ever kept me awake at night.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Kat said. “All that history.”

“What’s the history of Shark?” Jared said.

“Oh…” She laughed awkwardly. “I dunno. Bunch of criminals fled into the Swamp to avoid justice, most likely. And set up a little outpost that turned into a city when all the other criminals turned up. You know, the drifters have their drifter lineages, and you two must have like, warrior lineage… and here I am, probably descended from a long line of thieves and murderers.”

Jared shrugged. “Ancestry only means as much as you want it to mean. Think we’ve all bucked the trend a bit.” At Lekko’s expression he added, “Not you, Lekko. You’re still a drifter.”

“Yeah,” she said sadly. “Still a drifter.”

“Maybe we’ll come across some other drifters. If you did, would you join up with them?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t been part of a big group like that since I left my family unit to get married. My husband, he didn’t have family.” At Jared’s questioning look she added, “It’s customary for the woman to leave… we did nearly buck tradition, but to be honest, I wanted the freedom to go where _I_ wanted to go. And we went a lot of places. Spent months among the Hive, and we spent quite a bit of time in Flats Lagoon…”

“Flats Lagoon?” Jared said in surprise. “That’s a Tech Hunter town.”

“Oh, we didn’t go into the town itself, just the area around it. Not too bad, apart from the occasional gutter to contend with. Have you two been?”

“It was the first place Spade and I went, after we decided we were done with the Shek Kingdom and wanted to become Tech Hunters. A little while later we went north with some of our new friends, and the rest is history… The only Tech Hunter town we’ve never been to is Black Scratch.”

“Wish we’d stayed longer in Flats Lagoon, to be honest,” Spade said. “Apart from the fact it’s built over a literal cesspool, it’s a pretty sweet place.”

Lekko wrinkled her nose. “I think we have different ideas of sweet places.”

“The town’s not as disgusting as Spade’s making it sound,” Jared said. “It’s built right on the end of the lagoon. The sewage does have a chance to wash away… still, don’t drink _anything_ from any part of the lagoon if you ever go there. Use the damn pump-water, it’s there for a reason.”

They chatted about Flats Lagoon for a while, as Pia prayed and Rei sat in silence. Kat did her best to involve her in the conversation, but the participation felt forced, and eventually Kat abandoned the discussion to sit quietly with her friend.

“Things will work out,” she said. “For both of us.”

Rei smiled faintly and dug her fingernails into the dust.

“I hope you’re right, Kat.”

* * *

Cassie was braiding Marisa’s hair. To her surprise, Marisa was allowing it to happen.

Things had been quiet since her rooftop conversation with Lord Aramid; uncomfortably so, and the general sense of unease in the house was palpable. Marisa wondered how much of that unease was coming from Lord Aramid himself. He hadn’t paid her a visit the day before, or today for that matter, and she couldn’t remember having heard his voice at all, but she was sure he had been around at some point. _He wouldn’t have fled. He doesn’t seem the_ _kind of_ _man to give up power that easily._

Cassie took hold of another section of Marisa’s hair, twisting and pulling. It was painful, and Marisa could feel the hard tug at her roots, but Cassie seemed to know what she was doing – at least more so than Marisa had ever given her credit for. Marisa picked up the hand-mirror. For a bizarre, worried second she thought there was no longer any hair at the left side of her head, but as she moved the mirror around to catch a better angle, she realised her hair had simply been woven into an intricate series of plaited strands that lay tight against her scalp. She’d never seen anyone wear their hair like that before, and she had to admit she liked the look.

“You know a lot, don’t you?” she asked Cassie. “I guess I’ve sort of been underestimating you.”

Cassie shrugged, moving on to another row.

“I mean it. You know about hair – you even knew about the oil thing. And you know about poison. I know I’ve said this before, but we’re going to have to think up a way to communicate. Maybe, I don’t know, signing? Don’t the Shinobi Thieves do that? They have like a load of things they do with their hands…” She clumsily imitated it with her free hand. Cassie’s reflection raised her eyebrows. “We could try that.”

Cassie let go of Marisa’s hair. She was staring at Marisa’s reflection with an intensity that prickled the back of Marisa’s neck. A sudden thought occurred to her, and she twisted around. “You don’t _already_ know it, do you? Because people who get enslaved are either criminals or people who wander alone in the desert and get caught by manhunters. And with all the stuff you know about rich people and how they live, you must have been either a wealthy person yourself, or a member of their household. Or… or you’re a thief who got caught.”

Cassie did not reply.

“The fact you know about poison, as well… Given the type of poison you identified, you must have some familiarity either with folk-remedies, or poison in general. Which makes it more likely you’re a thief. Assassin, even.” She suddenly wondered if she’d done the right thing in taking Cassie’s shackles off. “Whatever you were, Cassie, I’m not interested in using it against you. But you showed willingness to help Lord Aramid when you knocked his plate off the table. So… if you’re honest, maybe we can get you a promotion.”

Cassie sighed, held up a finger, and continued braiding Marisa’s hair. Marisa sat patiently as she finished off the hairstyle. She spent a moment or two turning Marisa’s head from side to side to check all the braids were secure, and then, as if deciding she had finished, abruptly sat cross-legged on the floor.

“ _Can_ you do that sign thing the Thieves do?” Marisa said.

Cassie nodded, held up her finger and thumb, then shrugged.

“You can sort of do it?”

She nodded again.

“That’s a starting point. You can’t write as well, can you?”

Cassie shook her head, looking regretful.

“OK,” Marisa said, not at all sure she knew where Lord Aramid’s ink was kept. “Well, like I said, we’ve got a starting point. We could just make signs up, right?” She hesitated, not at all sure how to interact with this scrawny girl who had somehow become a lot more than just a scrawny girl. “Could you teach me what you know of this sign language?”

Cassie tipped her head, considering. She glanced at the screen that concealed them both from view, then stroked her chin, miming a beard. Marisa guessed what that might mean. “You don’t want Lord Aramid to know about any of this? You know, he’d probably think you were useful—”

 _Exactly_ , her face seemed to say.

“Oh. Well, it can be our secret. You’re technically my slave and not his.”

Cassie laughed a little, gestured for Marisa to hold her hands out, and started repeating the same motions over and over. It took Marisa a few embarrassing moments to realise Cassie was trying to teach her something.

“Oh… sorry…”

It was a strange lesson, conducted almost entirely in silence save for Cassie’s frustrated sighs when Marisa was slow, and her giggles when Marisa got the signs completely muddled. After an hour or so, Marisa was fairly sure she had the signs for _yes_ and _no_ , as well as one she was pretty sure translated to _fucking idiot_.

“Maybe we should practise,” she said. “With questions. Like yes and no questions. I ask you something and you respond with one of the signs you’ve taught me.”

Cassie groaned.

“Not personal questions, Cassie.”

There wasn’t a lot else to do, so Marisa spent the twenty minutes that followed asking Cassie mundane questions like whether the sky was blue. Eventually they progressed, and Marisa found herself picking up a few more signs here and there. She couldn’t sign them anywhere near as well as Cassie could, but, she reflected, it was more important for her to recognise them than sign them. _Yes. No. House. Key. Poison._

“Definitely a criminal,” Marisa said with a chuckle; she was sensing a pattern among the signs Cassie knew. “You know, if we ever manage to have a proper conversation, I’ve got so many things I want to—”

She broke off, realising Lord Aramid was standing in the room. Cassie quickly scrambled to her feet and dipped a curtsey, but Lord Aramid wasn’t looking at her; he was looking at Marisa. “A moment of your time, Marisa?”

“Yes, my lord. Cassie, pass me my crutches.”

They went and sat at the table, leaving Cassie in Marisa’s room. Lord Aramid ran a hand through his hair, looking distracted. “To keep you in the loop, Marisa, Okran’s Shield has been taken.”

“It was a success, my lord?”

“They captured the Inquisitor there. Valtena, I think his name is. Okran knows what they’re going to do with him – but the empire controls that border-point now. I’m getting the sense it’s the beginning of the end for the holy lands.”

“I see, my lord.”

“Nothing’s changed apart from that. For now. But we need to be very careful… The big question is whether we try and get closer to the emperor, or whether we keep our distance lest he strike out at us. Honestly, the coward in me prefers the latter, but strategically speaking… The other nobles are a threat. Tengu might as yet be the best means of keeping us safe.”

Marisa gulped. “Either way, it’s a risky plan, my lord. Isn’t it?”

“Politics isn’t safe, Marisa. And… I must apologise to you. I’d been hoping to give you some more time, to heal and to practise your own weaving… but I think we may need to re-evaluate. I want you in the palace with me. I have my contacts, but they’d never get inside the palace. I have my guards, but their only subtlety is in how well they can kill you. But _you_.”

He got up and began to pace.

“You’re smart, Marisa. A fast learner. A survivor. And given your great act of service to the empire, you are, in at least some part, _trusted_. We need to use that trust to our advantage. To keep ourselves ingratiated. And we need to start that moving now.”

“But my lord, I can’t walk that far with my crutches.”

“I’ve already spoken to the man at the robotics workshop. He’s confident he can get you up and running – maybe not literally running, but walking at least – with a proper leg. Something that won’t offend the fickle eyes of the nobility. I know you need time to heal, Marisa, but…” He stopped pacing and rubbed his eyes. “There may well be trouble afoot. Or about to start. We need to anticipate it before it reaches us.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“And Marisa?”

“My lord?”

“Don’t be frightened.” His tone became suddenly gentle. “I look after my household. You’re doing me a great service, protecting me, and I’ll protect you in the same way.”

“I’m not frightened.”

“You’re getting better at lying,” he said. “You know what gave it away?”

“What did, my lord?”

“Your eyebrow twitched.” He laid a finger on her forehead. “Just there.”

“I – I didn’t know,” she stammered, trying to ignore the flush that started under his touch and spread across her face.

“Try and relax your face a bit more and you won’t have any tells.” He lifted his finger away. “To move the conversation onto something a little less worrying, I do like the hair.”

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

“Did Cassie do it?”

She nodded.

“It’s impressive. And the look suits you. Maybe you’ll start a trend in the capital – not that Lady Emika has the hair for it.”

“I don’t think I’m much of a trendsetter, my lord.”

“You’d be surprised how much attention the nobles pay pretty girls. Even if those pretty girls aren’t quite noble themselves.” He smiled and handed over her crutches. “You’d better have these for now. We’ll get you a proper Skeleton leg to replace them soon, don’t worry. Now, go and get some more rest so that leg’s as healed up as possible. I have a feeling we’re going to be doing rather a lot of shopping in the next few days.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“No. Thank _you_ , Marisa.” He looked like he wanted to say something more to her, but then he turned away and started heading towards the curtain that concealed his prayer room. “I need some time with Okran. I’m afraid you will have to amuse yourself until dinnertime.”

“Yes, my lord.”

She returned to her own room in something of a daze, not quite sure what to make of their conversation. The thought of being in the palace so soon was daunting, but the way he’d touched her and called her pretty… She leaned heavily on her crutch so she could lift a hand to the sea glass pendant, refreshingly cool beneath her sweating fingertips. She was too hot and yet cold all over, with fear and dread and… excitement?

“Cassie?” she said when she was back in her room. “I don’t suppose you could sit outside the screen while I have a few minutes on my own?”

Cassie did as she was told. Marisa lay back against the pillows, her heart pounding, staring up at Lord Aramid’s ceiling. She could see spider webs up there, too high for any servant to reach. Spider webs spun and woven by experts at their craft, ready to trap the unwary. She had a sudden and uneasy feeling she’d just walked straight into an invisible and much larger one.

 _Of all the unsuitable people… it was never going to be someone normal, was it?_ The pendant lay heavy on her chest, beautiful and hideous at the same time. She wasn’t even sure she could move with it weighing her down. _Stupid little girl. Stupid. He’s a dangerous man._ And then a smaller but no less weak voice responded, _But a charming one._

Marisa closed her eyes, exhaling through her nose. Things had never been this complicated with Lady Sanda.


	16. Barkeep

“So where do we start?” Rei asked.

“I don’t know,” Kat said. And the truth of the matter hung in the air between them, like an invisible spectre.

It was early morning in Admag, the sun-baked streets filled with long shadows and dust that stirred in clouds under their feet. They were standing underneath a string of flags that had been clumsily looped from one side of the street to the other, flags that swayed and flapped gently as the wind buffeted them. They were not so far from where they had spent the night, but the others were currently tucked away by the wall out of sight. Kat scratched at the itching brand on her face and wished she hadn’t woken up so early.

They had both known, both acknowledged it whenever doubts had reared their ugly heads; yet somehow, the impossibility of their mission had felt just that little bit more achievable whilst they had still been far away. Now, that naive little hope had vanished, to be replaced with the cold certainty that they were wasting their time.

“Ruka never – never spoke about her much, did she?” Rei mumbled.

“No. She told Ava about her, when she thought I was asleep.”

“Oh.” Rei blinked. Her eyes were so puffy through lack of sleep her face was almost as swollen as Lekko’s. “Taura. That _is_ definitely her name, right? You didn’t mishear, or anything?”

“I don’t know. Didn’t she mention her to you as well? When I went to Sho-Battai and she had the fever?”

“Kat, I can’t even remember what happened yesterday.” As if realising that she’d snapped, Rei leaned against the wall of a nearby house and rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry, Kat. You deserve someone who can help you. Help you properly. I’m no use to you. But… nothing new there, right?”

“Rei.” Kat came over to her. Scrap looked up from his sensory exploration of the nearby outhouse and growled warningly.

“No, Scrap,” Rei mumbled.

Kat wasn’t about to let Scrap put her off. Taking her courage into her hands, she said, “Rei, you’ve done so much to help us. To help _me_. I – I was on my own, after the manhunters took me. And I’d have broken if I’d spent all that time alone in the camp. But we became friends, and something shitty became just… slightly more bearable.”

Rei stared at Scrap and said nothing.

“You kept me going in Rebirth as well, Rei. The paladins, they’re good at crushing people’s spirits. And if I hadn’t known I had to get to you, to warn you, to save you, I’d never have dared escape that place. I’m not some hero, Rei. But the people I love, they make me braver.”

“You’re not an idiot, Kat. You don’t love me. And you shouldn’t, either.”

“Rei, you’re my _friend_. I know we’ve had some pretty rough moments. With our friendship, I mean. But… just coz things don’t always go so well between us, it doesn’t mean I don’t care. I _do_ care. I really care. And I guess maybe you can’t see it right now, not with everything you’re going through, but it’s there, I promise. I’m gonna try and help, however I can. Forget Taura for a second. There’s a good chance we _won’t_ be able to save Ava and Ruka, and I’ve – not exactly made peace with that, but I know it’s a possibility. But I won’t stand by and not try and save my best friend.”

Her voice caught a little. She rubbed at her eyes for a second, but no tears were forthcoming. Eventually she said, “Let’s go for a walk. Just the two of us, and Scrap. And we’ll try and track Taura down at the same time.”

“OK,” Rei said quietly.

Rei didn’t have the energy to fight her, Kat realised. Every little move she made was laboured, as if the strength had been sucked out of her. Her legs, still wrapped in makeshift bandages where she’d wandered into the spiky plant yesterday, were shaking. She’d eaten almost nothing in the last few days, the journey to Admag had taken a lot out of her, and Kat knew for a fact she hadn’t slept well. The continual tossing and turning had kept Kat awake too. “You need to lean on me?”

“It’s… it’s fine.”

They walked a little way up the street, passing under more of the bunting. It was similar to the scene in Squin, and Kat wondered what the occasion was. Perhaps it wasn’t any occasion at all. She came to the end of the street and peered around the edge of an armour-shop, wondering if there were any bars up that way. “I think we should start with the flophouses. Talk to the locals. Maybe they’ll know something.”

“Maybe,” said Rei.

The city was starting to wake up; a couple were evidently having an argument in one of the nearby houses, and a small gaggle of scruffy children were play-fighting with miniature swords. Kat paused for a moment to watch them. They couldn’t have been much more than ten years old, and their horns were even stubbier than Rei’s. Maybe they were something that grew in, Kat thought. A middle-aged woman stood a short distance away, haranguing her daughter who was clinging to her mother’s legs and crying.

“Some warrior you’ll make if you cry at a scraped knee.”

“But he pushed me over!”

“Push him back! And draw some blood while you’re at it. Go on, go!” And the woman gave the girl a little shove towards the other children.

“Gotta say,” Kat whispered to Rei as they went past, “the warrior culture’s pretty intense here, right?”

“Mm. Not so different from the sands.”

“Your family was like that?”

“Pretty much.”

She had no idea how to interact with this Rei, quiet and shrunken and tormented. The tormented part of things had been there ever since Haga had taken her away, that first time. But all the additional traumas since then had been cumulative, and that weight was like iron on her shoulders. They turned into another street, Rei keeping close to the wall as if the shadows comforted her, and did not speak.

“Ruka was from here,” Kat said finally. “I wonder if she still has family in this place.”

“They wouldn’t call themselves her family,” Rei said.

“We could still try looking for them. Maybe they can help.”

“Not worth it. They’ll have disowned her. Kin-bonds… they’re more fragile than the Shek like to think.” Rei shivered. “None of this is worth it, Kat. It’s all pointless.”

“Don’t talk like that. We have to try.”

Rei just shrugged and reached down to stroke Scrap’s ears. Kat went ahead, peering up and down the next street. There were a few people milling about, both horned and hornless, but the thought of approaching them was enough to make her shrink back. Eventually she plucked up her courage and stepped into the path of a man in guard uniform.

“Out of the way, flatskin.”

“Please,” Kat said desperately, “I just wanted to ask—”

The man shoved her aside and kept on walking, the heels of his boots kicking up dust behind him. Kat stood where she was, watching him go.

“Pointless,” Rei said again, from behind her.

They ended up sitting in the shade of a nearby shopfront, with Scrap dozing next to Rei. Kat tried to think of something to say, and realised all she could come up with were a few stock phrases.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Huh?” Rei wasn’t paying attention. She was staring distantly at the people walking past on the street.

“I said I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have come here. I shouldn’t have pushed it. I should have talked to Moll, done more to persuade her to let us all stay. We could have died getting here – or all ended up in Rebirth… nothing about this journey has gone right, has it?”

“Nothing ever goes right,” Rei said.

“We’ll leave Admag, go somewhere else. What about that Flats Lagoon place Lekko and the twins were talking about? Might be better than here.”

“Sounds great,” Rei said tonelessly, “putting more Tech Hunters in danger.”

“Nobody’s gonna track us there, though. Especially not if we just leave Admag without talking to anybody.”

“Maybe not. You can go there, if you want.”

“Me? What happened to _us_?”

Rei picked at a torn segment of her trouser leg. “I think I might as well stay here.”

Kat frowned. “These aren’t your people, Rei, any more than they’re mine.”

“I know that,” she said. Her fingernails raked up a loose thread, and she tugged at it until the edge of the tear began to pucker and pull tight. “You’ll make faster pace without me.”

“Rei, we’re not leaving you here.”

“It’ll be no loss to the group,” she said matter-of-factly. “Ask any of them and they’ll tell you.”

“Bollocks. They wouldn’t leave you behind. And I’m not abandoning you in this city. Even if I have to carry you.”

“Kat…”

A few people on the other side of the street had taken notice of them, watching their conversation with interest. Remembering the guard’s hostility, and the unwanted attention she and Lekko had drawn back in Squin, Kat struggled to her feet and stuck out a hand to Rei. “Come on, let’s move.”

She didn’t end up helping Rei to her feet so much as dragging her. Rei was only standing for a second before she stumbled, knocking into Kat. She bowed her head, gripping both Kat and the wall for support.

“You OK?” Kat said in concern.

“I’m fine,” Rei gasped after a second or two of silence, but the colour had drained from her face. Kat slung Rei’s arm over her shoulder. For a few moments neither of them moved, as Rei pinched her face and drew in a few shaking breaths. “Thought I was about to pass out… I’m fine now.”

“You shouldn’t be fainting when you stand up.” Kat thought anxiously of their diminishing funds, and wondered if they’d ever manage to get any more money. “We need to get you more food.”

“I won’t be able to eat it.” She gently nudged Scrap with her toe. “Come on, Scrap.”

The morning sun was growing hot on the dusty paving-stones. Kat kept to the shadows the best she could, her feet itching and burning from contact with the road. The Shek who’d been observing them continued to watch with interest. Keen to get away from any potential confrontation, Kat moved a little faster, nearly tripping Rei in the process.

“Sorry, Rei…”

Walking on her own was tiring enough; walking with Rei’s deadweight was enough to tip the scales. Kat stumbled on a loose chunk of road-stone and fell, bringing Rei down with her. She coughed and lifted her face from the hot dust, the brand on her cheek throbbing with the impact. “Rei? You OK?”

Rei just groaned and rolled out of the sunlight back into the shadows. Scrap sniffed her for a moment, as if checking she was unhurt, then let out a little whine and gave her nose a lick. Kat crawled away from him a little, not trusting him to lunge at her while she was down. “Let’s try a flophouse. Talk to the locals.”

“Flophouse?” Rei murmured. “I don’t know, Kat… the place yesterday wasn’t all that friendly.”

“It’s more likely to get us somewhere than sitting on the street,” Kat pointed out. “Do you need a hand up?”

Rei had begun the laborious struggle of getting herself into a dignified sitting position. She waved away Kat’s offer, clinging both to the wall and to Scrap’s fur. She swayed at several points, the blood visibly draining from her face. _She isn’t well_ , Kat thought, remembering the way Ruka had looked before the fever had nearly killed her. Maybe Rei’s belief that she was dying wasn’t quite so far off the mark after all.

“We’ll rest,” she promised Rei. “We’ll ask around a few places, see if we can find any locals to talk to about Taura. Then we’ll go back to the others, we’ll rest, and maybe try and get some more food. You OK with that?”

“What?” Rei said distantly. “Oh, yeah… that’s fine.”

The first flophouse they went to was filled with drones from a Hiver caravan. Kat, remembering the sticky fingers of the last caravan she’d encountered, kept her hands in her pockets where she could be sure the medallion was safe. A few curious black eyes turned towards them as they went in, and various goods were waved in their directions.

“Buy lantern?” said the prince leading the caravan. “Yours for a very good price! Not stolen!”

“We’re good, thanks,” Kat said wearily. She wasn’t sure she had the energy to deal with traders. “Rei, I don’t think the Hivers will know anything. And I can’t see any locals here, not patrons anyway. Guess we could try the barkeep?”

“I guess.”

The barkeep had pulled up a stool behind her counter, and was watching the Hivers with narrowed eyes. She did not smile when Kat and Rei approached. “More outsiders? Shit, what happened to the days when _our_ people filled these bars? Now it’s all just foreigners and these damn hornless…”

“Never mind, Kat,” said Rei. “Let’s go.”

“One moment.” Kat forced a smile at the barkeep. The movement scrunched her branded cheek, and the smile quickly slipped. “Sorry to bother you. We’re kind of looking for someone.”

“Mm,” the barkeep grunted. “A foreigner, I s’pose? This damn city’s full of ’em, so good fucking luck.”

“She’s not a foreigner – at least, I’m pretty sure she isn’t. She’s a warrior.”

“Less of _those_. Least, not anymore. You got a name, flatskin?”

“It’s Taura. Her name, I mean.”

“Uh-huh. Warrior name?”

“Warrior name?” Kat turned to Rei for help, but Rei just shrugged.

“Yeah, _warrior_ name. What’s the use of you flatskins having those lumps of flesh on either side your head if you don’t clean them out? Stone Golem, Flying Bull. _That_ sort of name.”

“Oh. I don’t know.”

“Good luck then,” she said, sitting back in her seat. “Plenty of Tauras in this city. Not so many warrior Tauras, I’d grant you, but that’s only coz half of them are fucking dead, else traitors to our kind. You done wasting my time? Go on, shoo. Unless the homeless look is just an act and you actually got some cats on you.”

“Thanks for your time,” Kat said, and she left the bar with Rei and Scrap.

“Are _all_ the barkeeps that grumpy?” Rei said. “Is it just coz we’re not from around here?”

Kat wasn’t listening. “What she said about the warriors… the Shek must have taken some pretty bad losses if half of them are dead.”

“It’s their culture. Our culture, I guess. You fight until you die.” Rei gave a little shrug. “Guess they’d see me as a failure on that front, too. Wonder if it’s too late to fix it…”

“Your people. They had stuff in common with this lot here, right?” Kat said, desperately trying to divert Rei’s line of thought.

“I guess. I mean, not all Shek have the same customs. But the people who raised me… A lot of them came out of the Shek Kingdom a few generations back. So some of the culture stuff carried over. I dunno.”

They tried another bar, but the barkeeps seemed to be getting progressively unfriendlier, and they didn’t leave so much as they were chased out. Rei, who’d had to yank hard on Scrap’s leash to stop him leaping at the barkeep, trembled as the door was slammed.

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea at all,” she said.

Kat was tempted to leave it as well, but stubbornness won out. “I don’t want to give up hope. Not until we _know_ there’s no hope.”

Rei just stared at her mutely.

“I’ll understand if you want to go back to the others, Rei.”

“The others think I’m a liability.”

Kat, who’d privately thought the same thing on more than one occasion, smiled guiltily. “Then we’ll keep going. Just a little bit longer, right? And then we’ll rest.”

“Sure. I guess.”

The last bar they tried was a little busier; a group of warriors who’d evidently just gotten off duty were eating and drinking and talking amongst themselves. Rei saw them and shook her head, pressing herself back into the shadows. “We can’t go over there—”

But Kat was already marching towards the tables. She tried to march with purpose, but the faintness that had nearly overpowered Rei threatened her own balance, and her steps quickly faltered. Bright lights span in front of her vision. Her mind went blank for a second, but she was just conscious enough to know she was falling, with no way to save herself, right into the lap of one of the warriors.

“Oh, shit,” she gasped. “I’m sorry.”

There were a few moments of shocked silence – not that Kat could be sure it was silence, the blood was roaring so loudly in her ears. Then one of the warriors guffawed, and soon the entire table followed suit. “You seem to have acquired a flatskin, Deion.”

Deion wasn’t laughing. He grabbed the back of Kat’s shirt, dragging her up, and stared menacingly into her face. “You need to watch where you’re going, midget.” He lingered over the last word, looking her up and down. “H’m, you really _are_ small. I’ve met children bigger than you.”

“It’s a Scorchlander thing,” Kat mumbled, dangling slightly in his grasp. “We aren’t so tall.”

“H’mph.” He dropped her, and she nearly faceplanted the floor. The impact sent a shockwave of pain through her hands, her injured one especially so. “Coming in here, walking up to warriors, falling into them. That’s a good way to get yourself honour-duelled.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you still here?”

“I came over here because I – I was hoping someone could help us.”

“Kat!” Rei hissed from the shadows. “Come on, we need to go.”

The other warriors had stopped laughing and were watching Deion expectantly. Deion cursed and got to his feet. “Listen to your hornless friend. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll—”

“Do you know anyone called Taura?”

He paused for the briefest of seconds, just long enough for Kat to catch a flicker of something in his dark eyes. “Get _out_.”

“You _do_ know a Taura,” Kat said in a rush, as the voice at the back of her brain screamed at her not to be so stupid. “She had a girlfriend.” Of course she had more to go on than just a simple name; somehow that piece of information had eluded her when she’d been put on the spot in the first bar they went to. “Called Ruka. She lost her horns and Taura left her and—”

She found herself being lifted again, this time almost off her feet, as Deion dragged her to the door. Rei let out a frightened squeak and hurried after them. Kat half-expected to be thrown down the steps, but instead he carried her down them and deposited her unceremoniously at the base of the foundation. “Word of counsel, flatskin. You should be more careful with your gum-flapping.”

“Wait!” Kat burst out as he turned to leave. “Ruka’s in trouble, she needs help. She’s in Tengu’s Vault. We came all this way…”

Deion, who was already halfway up the steps, stopped in his tracks. “By Kral’s horns,” he muttered, just loudly enough for Kat to hear. “This is what I get for being nice.”

 _Some niceness, dragging me out of the flophouse_ , Kat thought, but her slowly returning common sense urged her not to say that out loud. She scrambled into a less vulnerable position, her hands balling into fists in the hot dust as the fire threatened to leap and rage inside her once again. “Please help us.”

“All right, fine,” he snapped, turning around. “I don’t know how plainly I can put this, flatskin. Whatever you’re hoping for, you’re not going to find it here. Nobody is going to help you storm a prison fortress in lands we’ve made peace with, and _especially_ not if you throw around the Fury’s name like a kick-bag. I suggest you leave this place and move on.”

“The Fury? Is thata battle-name?” Had Ruka had a battle-name? If she had, she’d never mentioned. “It’s Taura’s battle-name, right?”

“What did I just say about being careful? We don’t take kindly to traitors here, any more than we take kindly to cowards. That accursed pair is gone from Admag, and it’s of no loss to our people.”

“So Taura’s not here.” Here it was, the confirmation that they had utterly wasted their time and energy and resources, chasing down a pointless hope. Anger lent fuel to her inner fire, but she could not tell who the anger was directed at. Perhaps it was herself. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”

“Not dead,” he grunted. Seeing her eyes widen, he added, “If you want to find the Fury, you can wander into New Kralia and get yourself killed by the treacherous rebels. They despise flatskins and outlanders, you know.”

“She’s a traitor?”

“She follows that Flying Bull now, along with a number of our warriors. Not enough fighting for their liking, so they turned their backs on their homeland and defected to the traitor’s side.” He scowled. “Those of us who remain here are, by and large, fiercely loyal to our queen. Should she ever show her face in our kingdom again…”

 _Flying Bull._ Kat recognised the name. “Flying Bull? Who’s that?”

“He’s the leader of Kral’s Chosen. Pah, as if they’ve been chosen by anyone, let alone Kral. And Flying Bull has yet to challenge the Stone Golem to combat in the way of our people. He is no leader, he’s a pretender. Don’t mention his name either… in fact, flatskin, I’d advise you to still your flapping gums and leave this place. Trouble will find you here.”

“He’s right, Kat,” Rei said weakly.

“But we walked for days! We need to help Ruka, she’s our friend. She’s being tortured, and we have to help her, to rescue her somehow—”

Deion’s nose twitched. “How commendable. But she wouldn’t have done the same for you, so I suggest you forget about her and go home.”

The flames leapt high, filling Kat’s head with heat and smoke. “You don’t know Ruka at all.”

“Kat, don’t pick a fight,” Rei urged.

“He has no idea what she did for us! She _helped_ us. She put herself in harm’s way for you, and went down fighting for Ava. She’s no coward, she’s a true warrior, and if you think I’m going to stand here and let her be slighted by—” She stopped, suddenly realising that while Jared was tall, Deion was taller, and had twice as much muscle. “Ruka would have done the same for me,” she said quietly. “Don’t try and tell me I don’t know my own friends.”

There was a horrible silence, and Kat braced herself for another honour-duel. The leaping flames had died down once again, leaving a cold hollowness in their wake. She forced herself to keep staring at Deion. Finally Deion let out a snort of – was it contempt, or amusement? “Well, it seems Ruka’s cowardice is up for debate. I can’t say the same for yours. Or maybe your mouth just runs away with you.”

Kat watched Deion carefully but did not answer. Rei was backed up against the wall, clinging tightly to Scrap’s leash. Deion looked over the three of them for a moment, then shook his head almost imperceptibly. “I advise you not to linger in Admag. Go, and take any friends you’ve brought here with you.”

“Uh, Deion?”

He looked back at Kat. “I see you were paying attention to my companions in the bar.”

“Yeah. I guess. Um, how _do_ you know Ruka?”

His lip curled. “She was kin.”

And with that he went back into the bar, the door closing firmly behind him.


	17. Bonedog

“Don’t go after him,” Rei said.

Kat hugged herself tightly, staring at the closed flophouse door. She could hear the warriors’ voices coming from inside, and Deion’s among them. “You heard what he said. He said she was kin. That means he’s her family.” She took a step towards the door, but Rei reached out and grabbed her wrist.

“ _Was_ kin,” she told Kat quietly. “He won’t help us. And if you go back in there, he’ll do worse than just throw you out again. Especially if you confront him when his mates are there. Please—”

“ _We can’t leave it_!”

Rei flinched. She was shaking, her eyes half-closed. Anticipating what was about to happen a split second before it did, Kat moved to catch her as she swayed. As little as Rei weighed, Kat wasn’t at her strongest either, and the pair of them ended up in a collapsed huddle on the ground. Rei lurched as if she was about to vomit, but nothing came up.

“Rei?”

“I’m fine.” Each word came out as a gasp. “Fine… I’m fine… but… no Taura…”

“I’ll talk to Deion again. If he helps us—”

“He won’t.” She turned her face slightly towards Kat. “Ruka and Ava are gone.”

“No.” Kat didn’t want to believe it, _couldn’t_ believe it, not when a possible solution lay just on the other side of that firmly-closed door. “No, there’s still a chance. We can talk to him, maybe his mates will help.”

“They won’t, either,” Rei said, very quietly. “Believe me, they won’t.”

“We haven’t tried everything!”

“Kat.” Her voice wobbled slightly. “We have to stop. _You_ have to stop. For your own sake.”

“Not when we’re this close.”

“Fine.” She stared at Kat with a lifeless gaze. “Walk in, then. If that’s what you really want.”

Kat sat back on her cracked and bleeding heels. The journey had destroyed Rei; she was going to crumble, long before they ever got to Tengu’s Vault. Maybe this last hope was destroying Kat, too. Ava and Ruka would have been horrified. “No,” she said, her words leaving her mouth unbidden. “No, Rei, you’re right.”

“We’re not warriors, Kat,” Rei whispered. “We’re – I thought we were at least adults, but we’re not. Not where it matters.”

“I know,” Kat said.

They sat there, half in the shade and half in the sun, the hot, baked ground burning their exposed flesh. Rei coughed a little in the dust and straightened up the best she could. She still had to grab Kat’s shoulder for support.

“We wouldn’t make it back to Flotsam now,” she said. “Even if they hadn’t kicked me out.”

“Probably not.”

Rei nodded and wound Scrap’s rope a little further around her hand. She’d seen the way he was looking at Kat, too; all teeth and eyes and bristling fur. “I want to go home, you know. And that’s never gonna be possible.”

“Home? You mean the sands?”

“Bark. It wasn’t our home for very long, was it? But… I miss it, Kat. You and Ava and Ruka, it was like having a family. We—”

Her words suddenly cut off, and this time, Kat wasn’t able to react fast enough to help her. She crashed sideways into the road, dust billowing around her. Scrap pawed at her shoulder, then, when she didn’t respond, tried to nudge her head with his nose. Kat shook Rei’s other shoulder.

“Rei?”

Rei didn’t respond. Her eyelids were squeezed tightly shut, though they were fluttering; Kat could see the little muscles twitching around her eyes.

“Rei, can you hear—”

Scrap stopped nudging Rei and looked up at Kat, his teeth bared and a growl rising from deep in his throat. Unlike the other times he’d growled at her, this was no warning growl; this was the sound of a bonedog gearing itself up to attack. Struck with a sudden terror, Kat backed away, crouching slightly in the hope he’d see her as less of a threat. Maybe he just wanted to guard his unconscious mistress… but Scrap stepped over Rei’s body and continued to advance. His muzzle drew back over his gums, sharp teeth ready to sink into unguarded flesh.

“I don’t want to hurt her,” Kat stammered, as her legs filled with some cold, wobbly substance that threatened to unbalance her once again. “Scrap… please, down, boy.”

The _jitte…_ she had the _jitte._ It hadn’t been a lot of use to her back in Squin, but she had a weapon, and she was going to need to use it. She reached to her belt, taking care not to make any sudden movements that would trigger an attack, and slowly drew it out. Once it was in her hand, she remembered why it had been so useless. A metal stick, that was all it was, a metal stick with a hilt so she could pretend she was wielding a sword and not some blunt thing that would probably do nothing against tough bonedog flesh…

Scrap snarled at the sight of the _jitte_ , and jumped at her. His front paws landed in Kat’s chest, his teeth snapping inches from her face. Kat screamed, striking out with the _jitte._ The blow landed, but far from subduing the bonedog, it only riled him up more. He leapt for her hands, ready to tear them off at the wrists… she took a step backwards, the only movement she could manage, and his jaws snapped at empty air…

_Steps._

She could feel the flophouse steps pressing against the back of her thighs, hot in the sun. She scrambled backwards with leaden limbs until she was sitting on the steps, using all her strength to swing her legs away from Scrap’s jaws. She wasn’t quite in time to escape injury; his teeth locked shut, trying to tug her off the steps. Pain shot through her calf, blood splattering down her leg and across the dust. If she tried to wrench herself free, it might just dismember her…

She swiped the _jitte_ with her clumsy bandaged hand, aiming for Scrap’s nose. The blow connected, and Scrap howled. It was enough time for her to yank her leg free, but not enough time for her to get in another jab. All she could do was raise the stick enough to keep him at bay, waving it in a useless attempt at intimidation…

 _Steps. Steps…_ what next? _Steps…_ Her mind had blocked out all new thoughts, cycling the same ones over and over. Then, with an air of triumph, her mind plucked a new thought out of nothingness. _Door_.

She stumbled to her feet, nearly falling off the steps in her haste to reach the door and barricade herself in the other side. Scrap was still jumping, trying to reach her. It didn’t make sense, he should have been on top of her by now… It took Kat a few seconds of wiped-out panic to remember his leash had been tangled around Rei’s wrist when she’d passed out, and he’d hit its limit. It wouldn’t last long, though; he’d find a way to wrench himself free… She reached out desperately for the flophouse door, but misjudged the distance and sprawled on the hot steps.

“Down, boy,” she begged, but her pleas fell on deaf ears. Scrap was not in a mood to listen to her; he saw her as a threat to his mistress, perhaps even the one responsible for her collapse, and he was baying for blood, ready to defend her to the death… Kat’s hand, sweaty in its bandages, slid on the _jitte,_ and she remembered all too well the day she’d pushed the squirming puppy into Rei’s arms. _Stupid, stupid, stupid. Ruka was right, she was right…_

She became vaguely conscious that she was no longer on the steps. She’d rolled – or had she been kicked? – and now she had a face full of dust and an aching, bruised body. Her leg, savaged and bloodied, still felt like it had Scrap’s teeth in it. She coughed, her fingers curling around the _jitte_ , which had fallen with her. Did she still have the strength to wield it? Her eyes burning with the dust, she tried to look up, and saw the hazy shape of a larger figure, facing down the dark shape of a furious bonedog.

A gleam of metal followed distant snarls. There came a sudden whimper from the other side of the steps, then the ear-splitting blood rush that told her the danger was over. She sat up, her head ringing a little with that deafening silence, and stared mutely at whoever had just saved her. The figure nudged the fallen bonedog with his foot, then glanced over his shoulder to where Kat was sitting.

“If you wanted my attention, you’ve got it,” he said.

“You helped…” Kat scrambled to her feet. A sudden itchiness in her sinuses caused her to sneeze out dust, and she rubbed at her face with grimy hands. “Thank you.”

Deion lowered his sword. “The dog hurt you?”

“Oh. Yeah.” The shock of it all meant that the worst of the pain hadn’t quite sunk in yet. Kat stared down at her leg. Scrap’s teeth had taken out a chunk of it, but it would heal. Or so she hoped. First the Fogman, now a bonedog. A lot of things had wanted a piece of her lately. “It’s not too bad,” she lied.

Deion looked over at Rei, still motionless in the dust. “Did the dog hurt your friend?”

“No, she just collapsed… I don’t know what’s wrong with her.” She limped over to Rei, nearly tripping over Scrap as she did so. She stopped short, the realisation of what had just happened washing over her like cold bathwater. “You killed him.”

“It’s still alive. Haven’t put it down yet.”

“Don’t kill him,” Kat burst out.

“It’d have killed _you_. Damn bonedogs. These things are predators, you know. Not pets.”

“He’s not a pet. He’s a guard dog. For Rei…” Kat knelt in the dust next to Rei, noting with relief that she was still breathing. “She’s ill. He was protecting her.”

“From you?”

“I—” Kat reached for Rei’s hand, the one that had been holding Scrap’s leash. There were deep gouge marks on her flesh where the rope had cut her. “You can’t kill him. She needs him.”

“H’mph. Give me that rope.”

Kat unwound the rope from Rei’s hand, watching the blood well up on her friend’s skin as she removed it. She handed it wordlessly to Deion. He tied the rope around Scrap’s jaws, muzzling him, then threw the limp furry shape over his shoulder with a grunt. “You got friends in this city?”

“I mean, yes, but—”

“Lead the way.”

“Wait, you’re helping us?”

“I’m taking you back to them before you get yourselves into any more trouble. You’re Ruka’s friends? It’s what she’d have wanted.”

He picked up Rei with ease, as if she was a minor burden compared with the sword and the bonedog. “Well, flatskin? Are you going to show me the way?”

It was difficult to remember where she’d left the others; it felt oddly mundane, compared with the events of the past few minutes. She coughed the last of the dust from her mouth and led Deion up the street, back towards the wall. Quite aside from the fresh bite wound, her skin itched with dirt and healing injuries, and it took all her self-control not to scratch at it and cause infection. She wondered how she looked to Deion, tired and dishevelled and probably stinking too. She dismissed the thought with a shrug; of all the things to worry about, her appearance was pretty low down on the list.

_Rei…_

She sneaked a glance back at Rei, limp and pale in Deion’s arms. _She needs a doctor. Someone like Goren._ But Goren was miles away, and she wasn’t at all sure there would be a doctor in Admag who could help her. What was it Jared had said about most Shek doctors being battlefield medics? _Rei’s sick, not wounded. A battlefield medic wouldn’t be able to do anything… and we don’t even have any money._

“You said Ruka was your kin,” she said to Deion, as they walked. “She was a friend? Or a family member?”

“Family,” he said.

“Your sister?”

“You flatskins make too much noise,” he said. “I’ve not called her my sister in a long time.”

“But she _is_ your sister? Your blood sister?”

“Warriors are no kin to cowards,” he replied. And that was all he would say on the matter, even when Kat pressed him.

“Well,” Kat said finally, giving up on that line of questioning, “if she’s your sister, won’t you help us? I know you said you were only going to take us back to our friends, but—”

It took her a few steps to realise he’d stopped following. She turned around to see him staring stonily at her. “There is nothing that can be done for her,” he said. “She is dead to my family. And dead to me. Now, cease the gum-flapping and keep walking.”

To Kat’s relief, Lekko, Pia and the twins were where she had expected to find them. Lekko was asleep in the sun, cradling her broken hat. Pia had picked up a number of loose stones and was arranging them into shapes. The twins were having a quiet conversation. None of them had noticed their arrival.

“These are her friends?” Deion said. Kat knew what he was thinking; a pair of scrawny flatskins and two hornless Shek were hardly formidable warriors. “She really did spiral after they broke her horns.”

Hearing Deion’s voice, Spade looked up. Her eyes widening, she slowly nudged her brother. Jared was on his feet in an instant, sword drawn and pointed at Deion. “Put – her – _down_.”

“Jared, it’s fine,” Kat mumbled, but her voice was so weak and shaky it was barely audible.

Deion just watched the quivering point of Jared’s sword, an amused smile on his lips. “Are you going to try and use that, hornless? You look like you wouldn’t stand up to a gust of wind.”

Jared bristled. “Put her down!”

Spade stood up too, drawing her own, smaller sword. She had to grip it with two hands on account of her missing fingers, but Kat didn’t doubt she would try to use it if Deion gave her a chance. “What happened to her? What did you do?”

“Spade!” Kat wasn’t expecting to get through to Spade, not when Jared hadn’t listened, but her desperate shout gave Spade enough pause for her to explain. “He helped us. Rei – Rei’s not well. She blacked out, and – and he came to our rescue. Um.” She took a deep breath. “Can we put the swords away, please?”

Deion set Rei down on the ground, dumping Scrap next to her. “I’ve done what I agreed to do,” he said. “I advise you heed my earlier suggestion, and leave this city.” He was gone before Kat, or indeed any of them for that matter, had a chance to react. And in her current state, Kat knew she wouldn’t be able to go after him. She sank to her knees in the dust, her head still spinning, staring at Rei who was beginning to twitch and stir into consciousness.

“Rei!” Jared was by her side in an instant, peering anxiously into her face, waiting for her to open her eyes. “Kat, what happened? What happened to—” He stopped short, as if only just realising the motionless shape on the ground was Scrap. Kat knew he’d spotted the blood on Scrap’s muzzle, and as his eyes drifted to Kat’s leg, she knew he’d put two and two together. “Tell me what happened,” he said finally.

Kat scratched her itching face, no longer caring if she got dirt in the brand. _Stay calm_ , she tried to tell herself. Rei was waking up, she was going to be fine. Kat’s leg would heal, it was just the flesh, and Scrap… She would worry about what they should do with Scrap later, once she’d had a few moments to clear her head. Taura was gone. She’d somehow met Ruka’s brother instead – fate’s idea of a cruel joke, given that he hadn’t wanted to help them either.

 _Or maybe he helped us more than I thought._ Tengu’s Vault would have been a suicide mission, yet without it… They were going to have to find a new path, and Kat knew she would have to accept she’d never see Ava or Ruka again.

“Kat?” Jared said, and Kat remembered he was still waiting for an answer.

“It’s been a morning,” she replied.

And that was all she was able to say on the matter.

* * *

Luquin missed being able to sleep.

In the very beginning, he hadn’t been able to sleep either; the threat of torture had been a terrifying novelty, the lack of daylight had kicked his sleep cycle into the dust, and his cage had felt small and cramped and uncomfortable. Now, after ten days of pained and fitful dozing, he was beginning to wonder if his younger, newly-imprisoned self had had it easy.

He slumped against the bars at the back of his cage, trying not to aggravate the broken bone. The recovery process was going to take a long time, and especially when his body was trying to throw energy it didn’t have into the healing process. Not that it really mattered how long it took. He had all the time in the world, after all, and the days tended to blur in a way they’d never done on the outside.

But he did miss sleeping.

Right now, Ruka was asleep, curled up on the floor of her cage, using her arms as a pillow. She’d slept a lot since Ava had been taken from her, and ever since Luquin had given himself over to the Warden’s mercy, she’d spent very little time awake. In many ways, Luquin envied her; she’d found an escape. But the truth of the matter was that she was wasting away, in spirit as well as in body, and he suspected it would not be long before her sleep became a permanent one. He had seen it before… many times before.

He wondered idly what time it was. Afternoon, perhaps, not that it really mattered. Time was something for the outside. It held little power within the walls of Tengu’s Vault… apart from the ageing process, of course. He stared down at his hands, the only part of him he was really able to see, taking in the little bumps and ridges and scars. His hands seemed young enough, but how old did his face look? Did he look his age, or had the Vault turned him into an old man? It would have to remain a mystery, unless he could convince the Warden to give him a mirror…

Sounds from below, agonised screams and curses. A new Vault arrival. Luquin leaned forward a little, mindful of his injured arm, trying to listen in to whatever they were saying downstairs. But, to his disappointment, he could make nothing out; they sounded like they were still on the ground level. Eventually, however, the prisoner was brought up the two ramps to the cell block level, and there was the distinctive sound of a cage door being slammed. Luquin sighed; from the looks of things, he wasn’t going to be getting a new cellmate.

“The wrath of Okran will find you all!” the prisoner bellowed. “You may imprison me in your fortress, but Okran will pronounce judgement, and your godless ways will not—”

“Silence!” There was a ringing sound as the Warden’s _jitte_ rapped the cage bars. “We can have you gagged, you know.”

“As much as it pains the ears of an agent of Narko, the truth _cannot_ be silenced.”

 _Urgh_ , Luquin thought, suddenly glad the man wasn’t in the same cell block as him. Okranites were like sand berries, tolerable only in small amounts. The sort that preached fire and judgement tended to be rather single-minded, and generally boring conversationalists. He wondered who the Okranite was, and what he’d done to warrant arrest… not that it took much for an Okranite to piss off the United Cities.

Disturbed by the shouting, Ruka rolled over and rubbed at her eyes with her arm. “What’s going on?”

“New prisoner,” Luquin informed her.

“Oh.” Her interest immediately lost, Ruka closed her eyes as if to settle back into sleep. Luquin watched her with sadness. The spirit had been stamped out of her, the curiosity, the imagination that had flared in her eyes when he’d told her the story of the leviathan and the farm. Even the presence of new people in the Vault was as flat and stale as an old, sunken loaf. But Luquin still wanted to try and spark something.

“Wonder why he’s here,” he said.

She turned her head to look at him. “Why?” she said quietly.

“Why what?”

“Why do you care? He’s not our ticket out of here.”

“Maybe he is.” Luquin grinned. “You never know.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so—”

“So what?”

“I don’t know. Upbeat?”

Luquin shrugged. “Is your alternative better, Ruka?”

“It’s more practical.”

A cell block away, the man continued to rage, albeit in a far more muffled form than before. Ruka shifted slightly, easing the muscles in her shoulders. “What _he’s_ doing, it won’t change anything for him. Not for the better, anyway.”

“Makes things a little livelier for the rest of us, though, right?”

“I don’t understand you,” she said. “I don’t understand you at all.”

“It’s all about mindset. Do you want to live? Or do you simply want to survive?”

“I don’t really want to do either,” she said.

There was nothing Luquin could really say in response to that. “Fair enough.”

“But I know what I _do_ want.”

“Oh?” Luquin said, thinking of Ava. “What’s that, then?”

Ruka waved a cuffed hand at the divider that partitioned their cell block from the one next to it. “I want him to stop his noise so I can go back to sleep. It’s difficult enough when people are screaming.”

The Vault had gotten to her, Luquin realised. It was too late for her, and unless some miracle occurred, she would be dead within a month. He supposed that was what she wanted. “Ruka—”

She did not reply, staring fixedly up at the ceiling. Luquin lay down awkwardly in his own cage, trying not to jolt his arm too much. He wondered, and not for the first time, whether the god the Okranite was raging about actually existed, and if so, whether he might allow Luquin to show Ruka the farm in whatever new life followed this wretched existence.


	18. Betrayal

The others were packing up again. A prisoner in her own body, Rei was forced to spectate.

She was awake, though had it not been for the rapid, uncomfortable fluttering of her heart, she might have thought she had died somewhere out in the Stenn. The last few days had been smears of noise and colour against a backdrop of blank nothingness, and at random intervals, that backdrop would become the foreground.

Dead, yet somehow living. She’d done nothing for the group. All she’d done was slow them down, and yet…

_They didn’t leave._

She lifted her head from the ground. It took a serious effort, and the movement sent that inevitable light-headedness flooding through her, but it felt like a small achievement. She looked at the others, quietly checking their bags and weapons. Kat caught her eye, but Rei found herself unable to meet her friend’s nervous smile. Her attempts were barely twitches on a face that felt like it was made of stone.

“I don’t want to ask,” Kat said as she came over and squatted next to Rei, “but do you think you’re going to be able to walk?”

“I can try. What about you? Your leg?”

“It’s not such a deep wound.” But Rei didn’t miss the pain and uncertainty that flashed across Kat’s face. “Lekko’s cleaned it out for me, bandaged it up. Guess I’m going to have a few scars to show for all this, right?”

“But that one… it’s my fault.” She hadn’t seen the bite mark Scrap had left on Kat, but she knew the strength of his jaws, the sharpness of his teeth. Kat had been lucky. “Kat—”

“Yeah?”

She hesitated, wondering if she should try and apologise, but the words failed her. “I’m glad you’re all right.”

“I wish _you_ were all right.” Kat fiddled with the strap of her bag, which was lying in the dust next to her feet. “I wish I could do something to help you, Rei. I know how much you’re suffering. And… things haven’t gone so great for any of us, but you’ve caught the worst of it. And you’re not well, and I’m scared. Losing Ava and Ruka… well, that’s one thing. Losing you…” She drew in a shaky, sobbing breath. “Hang in there. We’ll find someone to help you.”

“I don’t understand.” How many times had she said that, expecting some kind of insight nobody had? “I know you pretty well by this point, Kat. We’ve been friends since the moment we walked into the stone camp together. But even after all we’ve been through, I don’t really feel like I know the others that well. Maybe I’ve just not paid attention. Everything’s gone so horribly wrong and people died because of me. But in spite of all the arguments… everyone has stuck by me.”

“We’re a team, Rei. And I think they want to be your friends, if they don’t count themselves as your friends. Nobody’s gonna leave anyone else in the lurch. We help each other out, coz… well, in light of recent events, we’re kind of all each other has anymore.”

“But they don’t _know_ me. They don’t know me like my family—” She stopped, suddenly realising she was entering territory she had never discussed with Kat. “They don’t know me.”

“Your family rejected you.” Kat’s eyes seemed to bore through Rei’s. “Right?”

“I—”

“Sorry. It was a guess. We never talked about our pasts, did we? Too painful, I suppose.”

“Leaving the Swamp. There was more to it than what you told me, wasn’t there?”

“Yeah. We can try and keep the past buried, I guess, but it sort of… digs itself out in the end. Still, whatever happened, Rei, I can promise we’re different people from the ones you previously travelled with, and we aren’t just walking away. We’ll look after you.”

Rei closed her eyes. “Where do we go from here?”

“Jared thinks we should go to Flats Lagoon. Everyone had an argument about it, but y’know, I don’t think our hearts were in it. It’s not the worst plan there is. And Spade suggested we stop off at that Tech Hunter waystation next to the Swamp. So I guess that’s our plan now. Maybe the twins will be able to get us some help there – I guess we’re kind of beggars now, right? We still got the Stenn to get across, so let’s hope we don’t run into bandits or bonedogs, but… I think we stand a chance of getting to the waystation. And we have a better chance than we do if we stay here.”

 _Bonedogs._ “Scrap.”

“I realise it’s a horrible decision for you to have to make either way, but we didn’t feel like it was our place to make it for you.” Kat’s eyes swam slightly. “Rei, I never wanted any of this to happen.”

“Me neither. And it’s not your fault he attacked you, Kat. I didn’t train him right. I should’ve – I should’ve trusted you all more and not given him a reason to turn on you—”

“Hey, hey. Shh.” Kat put her hand on Rei’s shoulder. “Think over what you want to do. If you decide he’s too much of a risk to the group, and you don’t want to be the one to… y’know, deal with it… one of us can.”

“No. I’ll deal with it, if that’s what has to happen.”

“Maybe it doesn’t.”

Rei glanced at Scrap, muzzled and tethered on a short rope well away from the rest of the group. There was still blood on his jaws. “If I became as much of a liability as Scrap—”

“You aren’t a danger to us, Rei. You just need a little help. And we’re gonna try and get you some. Maybe there’s a Tech Hunter doctor who understands what you’re experiencing. You’ll get a chance to rest.”

_A chance, she says. But you know you’ll blow it, just like you blow all your chances._

“I suppose,” Rei said aloud.

Kat gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I really am sorry, by the way. I should have looked out for you a lot more.”

“That’s not your fault either.”

“Kind of is.”

They stayed where they were for a while, listening to the sounds of life in the street nearby. Finally Kat reached out her hand to Rei, helping her into a sitting position. “Careful. Don’t black out on me again, or I’ll start a tally.”

Rei chuckled at the weak attempt at humour. “It’s almost afternoon. We’re – we’re setting off now?”

“The twins know a place we can spend tonight. Don’t worry, we’ll have somewhere to sleep that’s safe enough.”

“The place Jared suggested before?” Rei said, remembering how Spade had objected.

“Huh? Oh, I don’t know. Possibly.” Kat looked over at Scrap. “I don’t want to ask you this, Rei, but…”

“I’ve made my decision,” Rei said quietly. She wondered if she might black out again, but Kat’s presence at her side seemed to ground her. She slipped her hand into Kat’s, their two smallest fingers linked together. “You got hurt trying to help me. I can’t let anything like that happen again.”

“Maybe there are ways, you know. To keep us all together like before.”

“It wouldn’t be right.” She imagined herself taking Scrap’s lead and staggering into the wastes, far away from anyone who could get hurt. It was a possible solution, and one she might have seriously considered just a few short days ago, but in light of everything, it wasn’t something she felt she could go through with. More to the point, she knew Kat would stop her. “But like I say. I’ll deal with it.”

“Rei, are you sure you’re strong enough to—”

“He’s my damn dog, Kat. I _owe_ it to him.”

“I meant physically,” Kat said quietly. “But… I thought maybe you’d want the emotional support. Do you want me to stay with you?”

Rei glanced at Kat’s bandaged leg. Some of the blood had seeped through to the outer layers. “Better not.”

Kat retreated, gesturing to the rest of the group, clearing a space around Rei and Scrap. Rei stood up, the threat of unconsciousness hanging over her like Haga’s looming skull. She took in a deep, shaking breath and walked forward, her boots crunching in the dust. Scrap looked up at her and wagged his stumpy tail.

“Hey, boy,” she said.

She knelt down next to Scrap, sliding the muzzle off his nose. He barked joyfully, pink tongue licking at the fresh welts on her hand. There was still some dried blood where the rope had sliced her skin. “You’re a good boy,” she said. “Aren’t you?”

He was injured. Deion had hit him with the flat edge of his sword, but he had not pulled his blows. Rei spent a moment or two running her hands along his flanks, feeling what she could only imagine was bruised and tender flesh under all that fur. She could feel his ribs, too. They had barely been able to keep him fed on the rations they had.

“You didn’t deserve me,” she said. “You really didn’t.”

He poked his nose under her shirt, as if smelling food. She leaned into him, stroking his long, silky ears. Every detail of his face was precious; the big, soulful eyes, the dampness of his nose, the little bite a sandfly had left on his snout. His front leg was almost back to normal. When he stepped on her lap, his paw felt strong.

“I love you,” she said. “And I know you love me. But I know you don’t love the people I love.” Scrap pulled his nose out from under her shirt, smothering her face with doggy kisses. “You tried to kill Kat.”

He didn’t understand. He’d done his job, protecting his mistress from harm. Had it been a stranger, he might have been rewarded. Rei sunk her face into his fur, breathing in the canine smell for the last time. How many tears had that fur absorbed, she wondered. She drew back a little, wiping at her eyes, and tried to smile for his sake. “You were a little too good, weren’t you, boy?”

He cocked his head, hearing her words but puzzled by them. Normally at this point she would be giving him a treat, or at least a little more fuss. Not kneeling quietly in the dust and watching him with dull, lifeless eyes. He licked at her hands some more, leaving trails of dampness behind, and, as if deciding that she needed some more comforting, put his head on her lap and waited for her to stroke him.

Rei’s resolve, already weak from months of struggling, wavered for a second. _We can find a way to manage this._ She had a rope in her hand, a rope that could be re-tied around his jaws as a muzzle. All she had to do was be more careful and it would be safe for Scrap to stay with her… But what was the use of a guard dog that could not be trusted to protect her from the right people? She wondered what kind of a life Scrap might live with a permanent muzzle, and hated herself for even considering it.

“Can you forgive me, Scrap?” she whispered. “I’d have kept you, you know. If it had just been me and you. But it’s never that simple, is it?”

 _Get on with it,_ Haga said, his skull splitting into a yawn. _He loves you, you claim you love him, blah blah blah. It’s an animal, you know. Your sentimentality is holding your friends up. Look, they’re getting impatient._

Rei didn’t rise to it; even without turning to look at the others, she knew Haga’s words to be a lie. Even after all that had happened and all the times she’d tried to push them away, her friends had resolutely stayed with her. There seemed to be far more kin-honour among them than there had been among her mercenary band.

_Kin-honour, is that what you call it? They’re weak. Your family saw you for what you were; a feeble-minded mess who struggled to control her emotions. What was it they said? Ruled by the heart, not by the sword? And let’s not forget your little breakdowns…_

“Shut up.” The words came out a sob; couldn’t he let her have this, this one final moment? “Just shut up.”

The shadows writhed around Scrap, forming grabbing hands. Rei squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ignore their whispers. It wasn’t real. Haga was dead. None of what he said mattered, because he was nothing more than a headless body, rotting on the door of a crumbling noble-house. He’d probably been taken down by now and buried somewhere out in the sands. The thought did not cause the hands to recede – they were still there, and no amount of blinking would banish them – but they seemed a little weaker now, together with the whispers.

“This isn’t an execution,” she told Scrap. “You don’t know what you did wrong. It’s a – I don’t know what it is. A goodbye. Yeah, I guess it’s a goodbye.”

She slipped the muzzle back on, kissing the soft fur between his eyes. Then, knowing the protective wall of numbness would crash and burn if she lingered any longer, she forced herself to step away. Scrap tugged on his leash, gently at first, then a little harder when he realised he couldn’t reach her.

“It’ll be quick,” she promised, though she wasn’t sure whether the promise was to Scrap or to herself. “Just like blowing out a candle.”

And she reached for her fragment axe, the traitorous blade cold and steadfast in her traitorous grasp.

* * *

It was a long walk to the gates, especially when Rei’s own defensive walls lay crumbled in ruins. Every step she took was a step of loathing, a step of betrayal, a step of hollow emptiness she hadn’t felt since she’d been alone on the sands. She’d thought that void filled with the realisation that the group was now her family. _Family._ She had done to Scrap what her old family had done to her; she had betrayed him, taken a coward’s way out. The truth was cold and as creeping and insidious as the mist in the Floodlands. _Betrayal. Cowardice._

“Do you want one of us to carry your sword?” Jared said.

She deserved to bear Scrap’s blood herself. “No. I can do it.”

“Are you s—” He didn’t finish the question. He already knew the answer, the multitude of answers that swirled like an inky vortex. “You didn’t eat today, did you?”

“No.”

“Lekko still has some of that vegetable loaf—”

“I’m not hungry.”

They passed through the gates, and were not stopped by the guards. Rei risked a glance back at Admag, but the city was swarming with darkness.

“Think I left the shadows there,” she said. “Wonder if they’ll follow.”

“If they do, we’ll help you fight them, yeah?”

She looked up at him, stumbling a little at the sudden head movement. “You weren’t lying. You really are my squad.”

“We stick together. Like I said back in Flotsam, we all wore the same chains.”

“Yeah. Jared?”

“Hm?”

_I need you, like I need Kat, I can’t do this on my own, I need help and I know it’s not fair to ask you for help again but I really need your help and I need you as well, and while we’re at it I’ve been wanting you to kiss me but you held back because of Haga but it’s fine, maybe you’ll drive him away for good if you do…_

Haga just laughed. _How naive, to think he can fix you. That isn’t how it works. That isn’t how any of this works._

_Shut up shut up shut up…_

“Rei?”

She swallowed hard, Haga’s gloating voice still ringing in her ears. Suddenly the world seemed to have a little less colour than before. She kept walking, trying to formulate the rest of that sentence… then nothingness.

When she came to, she was being carried. Had someone carried her earlier, or had she imagined that? She twisted slightly in Jared’s arms, looking up into his face, and realised the traitor’s weight on her back had been removed.

“I said I could carry the sword,” she said; the words sounded stupid, but they were the only ones that sprang to mind.

“It’s fine, don’t worry. Spade’s looking after it.”

“But I said I could carry it.”

His tone took on a slight exasperation. “Rei, as much as I admire your persistence, I’m not carrying you _and_ the sword.”

“Oh. Sorry.” She reached an awkward hand to her forehead, trying not to upset Jared’s balance with any sudden movements. “Actually, I’m not sure if I can walk.”

“That’s why I’m still carrying you.” His grip tightened a little around her back. “Are you OK with this?”

“I – I think so.” There was still that sense of floatiness, but it was just like it had been in the refuge – safe and reassuring. She looked up at the underside of his chin and smiled. “This is romantic.”

“Uh, let’s put that on hold for now.”

“Don’t reject me, Jared. It’ll make me _sad_.”

“You’re dehydrated, aren’t you?”

“What? No. _No_. Super – super watered… all liquidy… I’m a… a Shek waterskin.”

He let out a sudden laugh, then shook his head. “I shouldn’t be amused.”

“But nobody… nobody gets to drink from me… nobody’s ’lowed…”

“You know, I don’t even think drunk Rei would say something like that.”

“Well, I’m the opposite of drunk. I’m undrunk. Wait. Where are we going, Jared? Kat said something about a place to spend tonight—”

“Call it a little family visit,” he said.

“Oh. That’ll be weird, right?”

“I think so. It’s been a few years. But it should be safe there. That’s what’s important.”

“Yeah.” She giggled a little. It was giggle or burst into tears. “I thought it was a bit early in the relationship, you know.”

“Huh?”

“For me to meet your parents.”

There was a sudden, more violent jolt as Jared almost tripped on something. “Oh shit, sorry about that. You OK?”

“Hah. I’ve been asking myself that question for months. You know, you can put me down if you want. S’long as… s’long as I get my sword.”

“I think maybe given the state you’re currently in, you’re better off _not_ walking.”

“Oh.” A sudden pang of sadness cut through the delirious giddiness. “I _am_ going to get better, right?”

He looked down at her for a moment, his eyes softening. “We’ll do everything we can to help you.”

“Maybe I can’t be fixed. You know who I thought might fix me? Who Kat thought might fix me? Scrap. And now he’s gone, and it’s all empty and…” She frowned. “I think the shadows _did_ follow, you know.”

“Mm. I think the first thing we’ll do when we get to our parents’ house is get you some food and water.”

“Sounds good,” she agreed, even though the thought of eating and drinking was enough to turn her empty stomach. “Food sounds good.”

“Almost there,” Spade said, falling back to join Jared. “I recognise the hills, it’s not far now. You ready for this, Jar?”

“Nope.”

“Me neither,” she said. “Is Rei—”

“She’ll be OK,” he said. And such was the certainty in his words, it didn’t even occur to Rei that he might have been lying. “We’ll all be.”

Rei just settled into Jared’s arms, and allowed him to carry her to safety.


End file.
